


Going Home

by y02mustang



Category: No Fandom, Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: F/F, Uber, mine, x/g, xena - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 09:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 108,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/y02mustang/pseuds/y02mustang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this beautifully written account of growing up and finding you are different, AJ and her twin brother Bastiaan lead an idyllic life in a Montana ranch...or do they? As their 18th birthday approaches, AJ, who is dyslexic and whose entire world is the farm and the open spaces she will soon inherit, learns a secret about her twin brother about to go off to college. Simultaneously, new neighbors move into the nearby farm and she makes a new friend by taking the small green-eyed redhead home after being lost almost a day. That begins a friendship that threatens the world the tall lanky dark-haired youth has known...and makes her question who she is and where home really is. This is a great coming-of-age tale.</p><p>Athenaeum Honors/Awards: Three-Time Top-25 #1    Perennial Favorite Award: #9 in 2004   #28 in 2005   #97 in 2007   #26 in 2008</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: The latter portion of this story does discuss self-harm in detail.

**Standard Disclaimer**

**Time Disclaimer** : I actually began this story several years ago, hence the 1997 bit in the copyright above. I wrote three pages of it, almost the exact same first three pages you have here, and then lost it. Nothing on my computer, nothing in a notebook, nothing but a hard copy drifting around somewhere that I'd typed on a whim. Six years later, I stumbled across it again, and managed to flesh it out. From three pages without a single line of dialogue, this is what my muse has come up with. *grin* Sometimes I scare myself.

 **Sex/Violence Disclaimer** : There is mention of love between members of the same sex, though nothing extremely graphic (sorry Tina! Not this time.). If this notion bothers you, you're welcome to continue reading; maybe you'll gain a new perspective. Or, let me know, and I'll see if I can send you a few oatmeal raisin cookies, because I really do feel bad for you.

And, there is talk of self-injury, most specifically, cutting. This can be a strong topic, and if it bothers you, you may not wish to read this work. However, I promise I have tried to portray it as accurately as I can. Please let me know if anything is incorrect.

If you, or someone you know, is a cutter or struggling with self-injury, there is help. The hotline 1-800-DONTCUT (366-8288) is available, as well as the website <http://www.palace.net/~llama/psych/injury.html>.

Please see the final page for more information and more phone numbers.

 **Location Disclaimer** : While I have never been to Montana, I did consult a native for much of the information used within. Also, I have a terrible memory and have used many resources from the Internet for information about San Francisco. However, my muse likes to twist things for creative license, so it sounds better. If there are any glaring mistakes, blame them on me.

 **Other** : I am not dyslexic, but a few of my friends and family are, and I have done some research, so I have tried to be as accurate as possible. Also, there is a wonderful story out there, _Dyslexic Writer_ by Red Hope, which yields a first-hand perspective of dyslexia. Definitely a work to read over at least once, and thank you, Red Hope, for sharing your friend's story with us. Again, when my muse gets a hold of things, sometimes any sense of reason goes out the window. But if anything is too out there, please let me know, and I will attempt to correct it.

 **Special Thanks:** More thanks than I can express to Lis for all her help and patience in answering my questions, and for poking me with a blunt stick to keep me writing, and to my former roommate for all her Montana knowledge.

 **And Finally:** A thank you to all my friends (fans and readers and fellow bards are all included) for keeping this little bard going, and for keeping fan fiction going. I write because I enjoy it, but I'm glad other people have found some good points in it as well. To Amber, Char, Misty, Tina, and everyone else who kept bugging me to write. Any comments, good or bad, may be sent to [y02mustang@aol.com](mailto:y02mustang@aol.com). Please put "feedback" somewhere in the subject line, and note that any flames will be promptly extinguished and discarded.

This one is for Lindsay - for bringing me back, and Alex - for being there when I returned.

_

"I know that this ain't wrong, what we do. Only that the world says it is."  
\- From Tipping the Velvet _, by Sarah Waters_  


_

_  
_

_"I can hear you laugh  
When I close my eyes  
I can picture your face  
And the strength inside your smile  
I can see the words  
Dance across your lips  
I'll remember forever  
Something more than this_

_And you can't go farther  
Than my heart can will go  
Cause I'll still be loving you  
Thought the sadness and the madness here  
And I'll always be with you  
In the distance  
That has taken you  
From me?"  
         - Plumb, _ Taken _  
_  


* * *

****

**Chapter One**

  
  
I guess it makes the most sense to start at the beginning... but in order to understand everything I'm going to tell you, I'd better go back just a few days. Then maybe it'll be clear - why I did what I did, and why things are the way they are right now...  
  
  
  
It was warm, and the sun shone down brightly across the flat, dry land that I called home. The land had been my home for all my seventeen years, and if I had any say in it, that Montana ranch-land would always be my home. The brush was dry, the sand had been scorched by the sun, and after the summer, rain was a cause for celebration; but it was home.  
  
There were many, many people who could not wait to leave, to go on to the city - Livingston was the largest and just due west of us - and they called me crazy because I wanted to stay. I could never understand why they would want to leave the peaceful living they had in the country for bustling and noisy cities where people feared their neighbors and double-checked their locks. So I ignored the people who called me insane.  
  
What did it matter, as long as I was happy?  
  
My name is Annika Justine Mulligan, but those who didn't call me crazy called me AJ. Even my twin brother Bastiaan, my mother Susan, my father Justin, and my few close friends called me AJ. Well, unless I was in a heap of trouble, in which case I was Annika Justine in that tone of voice that makes me wince.  
  
I had let my brown hair grow to near the middle of my back, and almost always held it back in a loose ponytail. I was fairly tall, for a girl, as I stood at about five-foot ten-inches. I doubted I would grow anymore, which was fine with me. The eyes I looked through were light blue, although they were often called gray, and I was blessed with the even smile of my mother.  
  
As I stood overlooking the property of my father that day, the property that in a few short weeks would be mine, I smiled. The creek that ran through the land, part of Spring Creek I believe, shaded and partially hidden by trees that grew alongside, was almost too bright for my eyes as the sun's rays bounced off the clear surface. I saw birds of all sizes scatter themselves across the sky as I roamed, and even caught a glimpse of a hawk. There were patches of vegetation here and there, but where it grew, it thrived. I had been keeping a mental record of the size of the greenery, and noticed that every couple of months, it increased. And it increased at such a rate that in a couple of years, nearly half of the land would be overcome with grass and shrubs. Yes, those who wanted to go could go, but I would stay where you did not have to visit some park to find plant life.  
  
I walked around, and climbed a small hill that I hadn't explored before. I'd only recently learned that the land would be mine upon my eighteenth birthday. Specifically, I would get just over a thousand acres, several hundred head of cattle - dairy and beef, nearly two dozen breeding horses, four herding dogs, two cats, and one very talkative parrot. I wouldn't be solely responsible for all of it until my parents passed on, of course, something I hoped was far off yet. My dad would help me learn more about just how the business end of it worked, but my name would be added to the deed for the land and ownership papers on the rest of the property, and that was enough for me to call it mine.  
  
Cresting the hill, I had a very good view of the land below, and noticed that it had more lush grass than any other area. Looking at the hills surrounding the valley, I assumed the plants grew better because a lot of the water from the rain drained down there, and soaked slowly into the ground even after the rain had passed.  
  
A noise caught my attention, and I looked to my right. The sight I saw made me reach down and pinch my arm, as what I was seeing then, I had only seen before in my dreams. A group of at least twenty horses ran past, and since I didn't see anything chasing them, I figured they were running for the pure pleasure of it.  
  
The mighty black stallion in the lead thundered across the ground, leaving a trail of thick dust behind him. His muscles were visible, even from the hundred feet that separated us, straining as he pushed himself to run faster. The horse's immense hooves, which seemed to be made of steel, propelled him along at a speed so fast I could have sworn he never touched the earth. His tail was arched regally behind him, and he lowered his head, snorting as he exerted his energy. The animal was a beautiful sight to behold.  
  
Many wild horses traveled through our lands, although they were rarely seen, and certainly their travels so close to a human were even less frequent. I just stood there, watching them. There were six or seven colts, I observed, but they seemed to keep up pretty well with the others. Two pregnant mares followed not far behind, though at nowhere near the speed of the rest of the herd.  
  
I saw dark horses, white horses, golden horses, paint horses, grays and bays, but the one in the lead was the only completely black horse. I'm sure the only word resounding in my head was "wow".  
  
The others followed the midnight horse, and he led them on an undetermined path, dodging this way and that, sometimes heading forward, sometimes going in a circle. Suddenly, he leapt up into the air and bucked. He was having so much fun! I couldn't help but laugh at how carefree they seemed, how much joy they got from just running.  
  
I watched them for quite a while, and eventually they settled down, grazing in the valley. Watching the black one in particular, I noticed that each time I moved, the ear that was closest to me would quickly flick in my direction, but then resume its forward position. Even with distance between us, the horse could hear me step on a twig or shuffle the small rocks as I walked.  
  
At first I was worried, because I thought, _If they hear me, they're sure to run, either away from me or right at me._ We had horses, sure, and I knew a lot about them; spent a lot of time with them. But these were wild horses, mustangs, free and untamed. I didn't feel I had any right to guess their reactions based of that of their domestic cousins.  
  
Soon, however, I realized that they didn't think I was much of a threat, and the ear didn't move my way quite as often. It seemed that they got used to my presence and the slight noises I would make. Perhaps it was because I was so far away, or because I had yet to move any closer. I was positive that if I did, I would frighten them, so I stayed right where I was on top of the hill.  
  
Besides the horse the color of coal, there was a young colt that got my attention. He had a golden coat, a silver mane and tail that shimmered in the sunlight, and a white sock on his left hind foot that went halfway up his leg. I knew the color pattern to be called Palomino, meaning a yellow coat and white mane, and I nicknamed him Moon Dancer. The colt was gorgeous, but he was also a trouble maker.  
  
As I watched, Moon Dancer walked up to one of the other colts and butted his head against the smaller one's side. The small chestnut colored colt, with a diamond star on her forehead, tried to ignore Moon Dancer, but the head butting continued. Finally Little Star, as I called her, had enough, and was forced to return fire. Backing away, Moon Dancer tried to escape Little Star's reach, but she struck out with her powerful legs, and landed a direct blow to his chest. It was not meant to do any damage, as no blow followed, but it was enough to convince Moon Dancer to move on.  
  
I looked around at the other horses, and named each individual amazing creature. There was Cuddle Bug, the bay stallion who just wanted to be loved; and made the rounds, giving everyone the chance to do so. He would walk up to each one, lower his head, and gently nuzzle them. A couple returned the affection, but most just turned away. Ever optimistic, Cuddle Bug went, undaunted, to another part of the flatland, giving the other a chance to cool off. A few minutes later, he would return, and repeat the process until one of the others allowed him to stay by their side. He was strong, and very large with no markings, but he was so docile it was adorable.  
  
Rose was one of the pregnant mares, with a beautiful red coat and black mane, as well as a white streak that ran from the middle of her forehead down to her muzzle. She was very stand offish, unless Cuddle Bug or a colt came up to her, then she would nuzzle and nip and love them. I figured she would be more social when her colt was born, and from the size of her stomach, as well as the month, I didn't think it would be too much longer. I found Cuddle Bug snuggling up next to her most often.  
  
Copper Wonder was a young colt, who was such a lovely shade of golden brown it was hard to believe he wasn't a Palomino. His black mane and tail proved him to be of Buckskin coloring, and I noticed that all but his right front foot had socks. He was spunky and playful, but seemed to enjoy the calm that surrounded his mother, and stayed by her side much of the time. The only time he left was to visit Rose or to teach some of the younger ones a lesson.  
  
Those were the five that seemed to stick out from the crowd, so those were the five I named. The black stallion also hit me as unique, of course, but I couldn't decide on a name that sounded right for him, so I decided to give it more thought. I wanted it to be special, as names were important in my family.  
  
For example, my first name was Scandinavian for "grace", and my middle name, besides being reminiscent of my father whom I loved dearly, meant "just" in Latin. My parents always told me the name is an indication of the person, not disregarding individual personalities of course, and I applied that to the animals in my life, whether it was the same or not.  
  
I stayed there, watching the horses in the valley, until the sun began to set. I knew if I didn't start back soon, I wouldn't return to the house before it was completely dark, and while I didn't mind, I knew it worried my mother. And still, I was reluctant to leave. With a silent bid goodnight to the living legends of the west, I turned back and walked the way I had come, marking the place in my mind as somewhere to return often. Even if I was never able to see them again, I would always have the memory.  
  
* * * * *  
  
I entered the house through the front door, stomping my boots on the mat to get rid of all the dirt before I tracked it through the house and on the carpet, a crime my mother could pin on any one of us just by looking at the shoeprint. I wore cowboy boots, my brother wore tennis shoes, my father chose work boots, and my mother? well, she just never attracted dirt, so she was never a suspect. I had tried wearing my brother's shoes out once, but she still knew it was me. I didn't even try to get her to explain how she did it, I just started scrubbing.  
  
Going so far as to take my boots off and placing them next to the front door, under the coat rack, I walked into the kitchen with socked feet, searching for dinner. Bastiaan would be in his room studying for his college tests, my dad was probably sitting in his recliner reading the newspaper, so it was with no surprise that I found my mother on her own.  
  
I kissed her cheek by way of greeting, coming up behind her.  
  
She turned from whatever she was cooking? smelled like minestrone soup if I wasn't mistaken, and smiled at me.  
  
"Oh, AJ, go wash up. Then you can help me finish dinner."  
  
I nodded, and walked up the stairs to my bedroom, peeling off my shirt and quickly removing my jeans. Pulling on a pair of flannel pajama pants and an A-shirt I had borrowed from my brother, I took off my socks, tossed all the dirty clothes in the hamper in my closet, and washed my hands in the bathroom on my way back downstairs.  
  
I had been helping my mom cook our meals for almost as long as I could remember. It used to be that everyone took turns. Bastiaan would help cook one week, then my dad, and then me. Whichever sibling wasn't cooking would clear the table. It didn't taken long for the men to realize that dinner always seemed to taste better if I had a hand in it rather than them, and soon they "bowed to my superior cooking skills", to quote my brother. I think they just wanted to get out of the kitchen, personally. Bastiaan burned whatever he touched and Dad was much too prone to experimenting for anyone's stomach to handle.  
  
They tried, I'll give them that. But if they wouldn't have said anything, I was about to. I don't know how long mom was prepared to handle burnt rice or cooked spinach in marina sauce with tofu meatballs, but she's a stronger woman than I am - by Dad's third week, I was ready to wave a white flag.  
  
So, it became just me and my mom in the kitchen. That was how I liked it. I got to spend quality time with my mom, and dinner turned out pretty damned good, if I say so myself.  
  
I tasted the soup briefly, and added just a bit more salt. My mom handed me the French bread, and I began buttering the slices as I worked, sprinkling garlic over the pieces before putting them in the broiler for a while.  
  
"How far did you go today?"  
  
"A little farther than I've gone before, but I've still got a ways to go before I see everything," I replied. "I did see some mustangs, though."  
  
My mother looked interested. "Oh?"  
  
"Yeah, almost two dozen. They were beautiful, mom." I told her of my experience, and she smiled gently when I was done, at my mention of wanting to stay around them longer.  
  
"You always did prefer animals to keep your company."  
  
I shrugged, and didn't say anything. I didn't have to. My mom knew I preferred my friends to be of the four-legged variety, mainly because they made no judgments against me, and because I hadn't spent much time in school to make many of the human kind. I was dyslexic; unusual for a girl, perhaps, but that didn't change things. When my parents investigated my problems in school and learned of the disability when I was in grade school, they searched for assistance in the form of special teachers, but my frustration mounted when I didn't improve. I was young, and though I wanted to be able to read like the other kids, I gave up quickly. They taunted and jeered, and made up names it still hurt to remember.  
  
I left. It wasn't unusual in our town for kids to leave school early to help their parents with their property. Granted, sixth-grade was a little early even in that case, I didn't care. I tried, and failed. Normally I wasn't one to give up so easily, but I was young, and didn't handle the frustration well. I wasn't going to let the others rub my face in it for the rest of my life.  
  
It was bad enough my brother was a straight-A honor student. He had always known he was going to a big-name college, and I was proud of him. But it had taken a long time to get over being jealous of his ability to read books so quickly.  
  
Shaking my head, I removed the toast before it was burnt beyond recognition, and set it on the table. My mother had already set the plates out while I was lost in thought, and I finished by adding the silverware and the napkins and such. Then, calling for my brother and dad, I sat at the rectangular table, and my mother joined us with the pot of soup just moments later.  
  
Bastiaan led us in grace, and my father dished out everyone's meal. We chatted idly, my father quite excited to learn of my time out on the land, not to mention my brother's high hopes of doing well on the SAT. It was early December, and if I remembered correctly, the next chance he had to test was sometime in late February. Nearly three months away and he was already locked up in his room with those books?  
  
I always thought he studied too much.  
  
While my brother cleared the table, my father settled back in his chair and placed his hands, clasped, on the table. He was a good looking man by anyone's standards, I thought. Barely forty, two years younger than my mom, he was still in fine shape. Strong with muscles cut from years of working the ranch, tan from the sun, and thin by nature, I didn't think he had a single gene that would lead to old-age. He took care of himself and ate well - despite raising cattle for the slaughter, we were all vegetarians - and showed no signs of losing any of his brown hair.  
  
The deep green eyes in his patient face settled on me.  
  
"George Ruskin told me someone finally bought the old Tops place, and moved in last weekend," he said, and I raised an eyebrow. The Tops land had bordered much of ours, I knew, and while the owners had died when I was still in diapers, my dad told me stories of their kindness. Our cattle liked to tear down some of the fences, and 'visit' the Tops' land. They didn't mind, but there was no way to tell if our new neighbors (if you can call folks that live more than two miles away neighbors) would be as amiable.  
  
"What do we know about them?"  
  
"All George could tell me was that they just have one child, and a lot of dogs. Said they moved from some city in California. What they're doing here on six hundred acres of land, your guess is as good as mine," he confessed, and I frowned slightly. Our family had started out with a few acres when my dad was small, and built up from there, buying pieces of land whenever they were offered, and sometimes even if they weren't. What a Mulligan wants, a Mulligan gets, my dad was fond of saying. Not that we were ever dishonest in our dealings, the few times we wanted an acre or seven of land and the owner was reluctant to agree, we offered them more than they could resist.  
  
Either that or my dad turned on the charm. That had worked more than once, too, I was sure.  
  
But new people from a big city? I'd heard enough of the folks in California to know they were invading our state in hordes, taking large chunks of land and turning it industrial, all the while claiming they'd come to get away from the city. Then why cover it with buildings that block the horizon and give off too much light in the evening they block the blanket of stars?  
  
That wasn't what Montana was about, I felt. Montana was beautiful country that deserved to be seen as such. Trees growing towards the sun, rain pelting the earth, horses running free; that was all wonderful and beautiful and amazing. Pieces of steel and concrete were not.  
  
The expression on my face must have said it all, because my dad patted my hand. "Don't worry so much on it, Annika. I just wanted to let you know what George had said. I'm sure they'll be fine people," he assured me, and I knew he wanted to believe it just as much as I did.  
  
I went to bed not long after dinner, hugging my parents and choosing not to disturb my twin's studying, wishing him a good night as I passed his room on the way to mine. I could stay up late if need be, as I had no problem being a 'night owl' as my mother put it, but if I had nothing else to do, I chose to turn in. I enjoyed getting up early in the morning and watching the sun rise every chance I got.  
  
That night, I dreamed of watching the sun rise over the land, giving light to skyscrapers and busy freeways on which the mustangs skid, having trouble running properly on the asphalt. Their legs gave way under them often, and I woke up in a cold sweat, recalling in vivid detail the large black patriarch watching, from the safety of the side of the road, as the last of his herd fell. Reality came crashing back in the form of the actual rising of the sun, and he turned a heavy head towards me just as my eyes flew open.  
  
  
  
 **

Chapter Two

**  
  
I took a deep breath as I awoke, trying to calm myself. Throwing the covers back, I had a strong urge to see the mustangs again, and dressed quickly. Scarlett, the striped cat that had slept at the foot of my bed, opened one eye at me, showing her annoyance at being disturbed before going to back to sleep. Normally, I would soothe her with a gentle hand, but this time I ignored her.  
  
 _Don't be ridiculous. The mustangs are fine,_ I told myself. Grabbing my warm flannel jacket, I fixed a thermos of coffee and headed out the door. The rest of the household was still asleep, and though my father would be getting up in just an hour or so to feed the horses, I was as quiet as possible.  
  
Even the dogs knew not to bark as I passed, all four sleeping in a pile on the front porch, under the swing. Duke raised his head, and as much as I loved his company, I didn't want him to scare away the mustangs if I found them, so didn't call to the Border Collie. He watched me go, yawned, and settled back to sleep, dreaming whatever dog-dream I had interrupted.  
  
The horses whinnied, and I promised I'd return to spend some time with them as soon as I found the others.  
  
By the time I reached my destination, the hill from the day before, the sun had risen almost completely. The sky was still tinted with the pink hues of dawn, but that was rapidly fading into blue crystal, a few dark clouds gathering in the distance.  
  
To my great delight, the mustangs were still in the valley. A quick count told me no one was missing, and I took a sip of my coffee with a steady hand. Chalking up my fears to a bad dream based off the news my father had told me at dinner, I sat down comfortably, and watched the herd interact.  
  
Moon Dancer was picking on another of the colts already, but this time the filly's mother came to the rescue. Ears back, she walked with a purpose right towards the bothersome colt, and he fled. I noticed the mare kept an eye on him, making sure her flank was always showing. She seemed to stay perpendicular to him. When he tried to enter the loose circle of his herd again, she faced him and drove him away.  
  
He moped around for a while, before trying once more. Moving slowly, this time the mare turned away from him a little, and his ears went forward. Dropping his head to the ground, his breath blowing small clouds of dust, he continued to approach her, and now was shown her shoulder.  
  
I chuckled to myself when I saw his tongue a few times. Although his jaw was working as though he was eating, he was chewing nothing. He was apologizing. Careful movements, head bowed, I could almost hear the childlike apology.  
  
'I'm sorry. I was just playing. Can I come back now?'  
  
He was close enough to touch the other horse now, and reached out with his nose to rub her flank. She nudged him gently, all was forgiven, and he took off, romping and playing again.  
  
The mare had been scolding him, I realized, rather like a time out. When she stopped looking at him, he could apologize and return.  
  
My stomach began to growl, and I knew it was time to go home. Finishing the last bit of my coffee, I screwed the cap back on the thermos, and stood slowly. The horses glanced up at the sounds I made dusting myself off, but I turned and left before they could be frightened.  
  
I decided I would go out again after breakfast, although not to Mustang Point, as I had started calling the hill. I would go on horseback, and just to explore more of the land, not to see the mustangs. They had given me plenty to think about already, I figured I would let them be for a while.  
  
All right, so I admit it. I wanted to check out the new family on the adjoining land. I was curious as to whether they were a threat to our peaceful countryside, and intended to find out as soon as possible.  
  
My dad was just finishing feeding the horses when I returned.  
  
"Your mother's inside, she asked me to tell you there was a phone call for you," he said.  
  
"All right. Do you want any help?"  
  
He chuckled, and shook his head, tossing the last can of pellet feed into the final feed bucket. "No, I'm done here. They need to be groomed sometime this week, though, if you want to get started on that." He patted the thick coat of the nearest horse, and I nodded. The fuzzy winter coats were warm but the horses liked to roll in the dirt, and they needed to be brushed even more often.  
  
Taking off my boots by the front door, I stopped by the living room on my way to the kitchen, and turned on the radio loud enough to carry into the other room. It was the easiest way for me to get caught up on the news.  
  
"Morning," I called, smelling omelets.  
  
"Morning, AJ. Stacey called for you this morning," she related, speaking of my close friend, and the veterinarian's daughter. "I think it's something about Rhett."  
  
I nodded, and grabbed the phone eagerly. We'd had to take one of our cats to the vet just a few days before, and I was hoping Stacey had good news for me. Rhett, Scarlett's brother, had gotten into a fight with a rattlesnake. The rattler won. The snake struck him twice and slithered away, and when I found the cat, his left side was puffy and tender. I jumped in the truck and raced him down the road to the Telamons, the home of our vet, which was also her office.  
  
So it was with slightly trembling hands that I dialed the number.  
  
"Telamon residence," came the greeting.  
  
"Is Stacey in, please? This is AJ."  
  
"Oh, AJ, hi! This is Dr. Lisa. I had Stacey call you because I was on a house call this morning. One of Mr. Benton's dogs took sick."  
  
I tried not to sound as unconcerned as I felt at the moment. "That's too bad. Is there any news on Rhett?"  
  
"Oh, yes, I'm sorry, dear. Here I am rambling on about a dog and you're probably worried sick about your cat," she said, chuckling a little to herself. Dr. Lisa was an excellent vet, but sometimes I just wanted to shake her and tell her to hurry up. She was friendly and kind, but liked to talk. Everything she said began with "Oh?" as though she was telling you something you weren't going to believe.  
  
"Is he okay?"  
  
"Oh, he'll be just fine. He's resting now, and I'd like to keep him just a few more days to keep an eye on him, you understand. But he's doing much better."  
  
I smiled, and waved to my mom that he was okay; she'd been watching my conversation from her place at the stove. Now she smiled, and turned her full attention back to breakfast.  
  
"Thank you, Dr. Lisa."  
  
"Oh, not a problem, glad I could help. He's just a sweet little thing. I'll have Stacey give you a call on Friday, let you know when you can pick him up and take him home, how does that sound?"  
  
"That sounds wonderful. Thank you again. Take care." I hung up the phone, and rushed down the hall to tell my brother the good news.  
  
"Bastiaan!" I knocked on the door to his room twice, and then opened it. As I expected, he had his nose stuck in a book. "Dr. Lisa says Rhett will be able to come home by the end of the week!"  
  
He didn't look up. "That's great," was all he said.  
  
I frowned, and straddled the chair at his desk, watching him for a moment. He was stretched out across his bed, lying on his back. He turned a page and kept reading, until my gaze got to him and he looked up, annoyed.  
  
"What?" he demanded, his dark eyes meeting mine. His hair was a shade darker, his eyes were a deeper blue, but we were about the same height, and I was confident I could still beat him in a wrestling match.  
  
"Come on, Bastiaan, I thought you'd be happy. I mean, Rhett is your cat, after all."  
  
He sighed, and laid the book across his broad chest.  
  
"I am happy, AJ. I'm glad he's going to be okay, we were all worried about him. I've just got a lot on my mind right now," he admitted, and I tilted my head. There was something funny about his book.  
  
"What are you reading?"  
  
Now he dropped his eyes. "Just stuff for school, you know. Studying." I would have believed that, if it wasn't for the fact that I caught the spine of another book under the first. He wasn't reading the textbook whose cover I'd seen and recognized by the calculator on the front as being math - besides, he had no scratch paper or calculator around - there was another book in the middle, a trick even I recognized as trying to hide the actual reading material.  
  
Springing out of the chair, I reached for the books, but he clutched them tighter.  
  
"What are you hiding?" I tried again, kneeling on the bed.  
  
"None of your business!" he said, trying to push me away.  
  
I laughed. "Ooh, I bet it's a porno."  
  
"Bite me, AJ."  
  
With a bright smile, I bit his shoulder. He yelped, and pushed me on to the floor as I laughed even harder.  
  
"You're such a pain in the ass, Annika."  
  
He was blushing. Whatever he was reading had to be good, but I let him go, for now. I'd find out later.  
  
"Come on, bro. Mom says breakfast will be ready soon. Pull your nose off that grindstone, huh?" He looked relieved that I wasn't going to tell our parents he hadn't really been studying. I wasn't sure what it was, but it definitely wasn't school-related.  
  
Tucking away the image of the two books, I patted my sibling on the back as he helped me to my feet. The books were still face down on his bed, and he made sure I walked out the door first, but I had no intentions of swiping at them again.  
  
If it was one thing I was good at, it was waiting.  
  
* * * * *  
  
All through breakfast, I kept sneaking a smug grin at Bastiaan, who would then kick me under the table. I cleared the table, and raised an amused eyebrow at him as he returned to his room in a huff.  
  
"Bastiaan's been studying too much," said my father, and I bit my cheek.  
  
"Yes, I think he could use a break," agreed my mom. "AJ, didn't you say you were going riding today? Why don't you take your brother with you?" Looks like I wouldn't have to be patient on this one.  
  
I grinned at the suggestion. "Sure, mom. I'll go tell him to put his boots on." I bounded up the stairs, happily planning on teasing the hell out of my twin.  
  
With a quick knock, I opened the door, and found him in much the same position as before.  
  
He looked up at me, immediately holding the books close.  
  
I chuckled. "Come on, lazybones. You're going riding with me." I went to his closet to pull out his riding boots. He leapt off the bed and grabbed my arm before I could slide open the door.  
  
"I'll change. Go tack up the horses, AJ, I'll meet you out there. Promise."  
  
I paused. Was that desperation I saw in his eyes? Holy cow. First the mysterious book, and now this? Whatever was in his closet that he didn't want me to see was juicy with a capital O for opportunity. If I could find out what it was, oh boy could I have fun with my brother.  
  
A slow grin crossed my face. "Sure. All right, Bastiaan. Ten minutes."  
  
He nodded, smiled gratefully, and shoved me into the hallway. I walked into my room and fell against the door laughing until my eyes watered.  
  
Oh, this was going to be great.  
  
I had our gray, Leslie, and the bay, Shannon, saddled and ready to go in just under ten minutes. Both were mares who had not been impregnated that spring. The stallions were also capable of being ridden, but they had a tendency to be a little more headstrong, and I didn't want them trying to start trouble if we came across the mustangs. Typical males, I decided, they never listened very well.  
  
My brother, however, was outside right on time, and closed the barn door behind me. I mounted Shannon easily, who was my favorite to ride, and then held Leslie so he could settle himself in the saddle. He'd changed into a pair of faded jeans and his boots, but still wore the same brand name T-shirt. The sun was out, and had warmed the land enough so we didn't take a jacket or long-sleeved shirt.  
  
As we started across the property, he pretended to be interested in the location of the cattle, but I knew it was an act. He liked the ranch, but had never gotten anywhere near as involved as my dad and I. He was going to college to study law, or so he said, and had no desire to stay in a small Montanan town.  
  
I reached out and lightly punched him in the shoulder to get his attention.  
  
He glanced at me, and I got the feeling he was dreading whatever conversation he thought we were going to have. I may not have been able to read books very well, but I could read people. From the look on my parents' face, I could always tell if the letter my teachers had written was good news or bad, and I could tell if most anyone was lying to me. Facial expressions and body language meant as much to me as the printed words did to my brother.  
  
"Bastiaan, what's going on? You look like you're gonna puke."  
  
In a rare show of embarrassment, my twin, older by just four minutes, reached up and scratched the back of his head. "You're too observant, AJ." At my confused look, he sighed. "Mom and dad never guessed I was reading another book, but you got it right off the bat. Promise you won't tell?"  
  
"Look, don't worry about that," I assured him. "I'm gonna pick on you like there's no tomorrow, but I'm not going to get you in trouble. You should know me better than that."  
  
He nodded. "I do. I'm sorry."  
  
The apology made me pull Shannon even closer alongside him. "Hey, what's going on?" I repeated. "How long have you been reading whatever that was, pretending to study?"  
  
"I got it from the bookstore two weeks ago."  
  
I blinked. "You've been lying to mom and dad for two weeks?" Then, it made a little sense. "I knew it was too early for you to be studying. Three months is too much, even for you."  
  
"I've been lying to them for a lot longer than that," he muttered.  
  
"What are you talking about?" I was beginning to feel a little less gleeful and a lot more worried. "You've been lying to me too, haven't you?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
I had no idea what was wrong, but judging by the body language, I had two guesses. Either my brother was dying or he'd gotten some girl pregnant. Whatever it was, he didn't look pleased to tell me.  
  
"Listen, Bastiaan, you're my brother. I might knock you around a bit, but you're still my brother. Even if you feel like you can't tell mom and dad, you can tell me. I won't say a word if you don't want me to," I assured him, patting his back gently.  
  
My brother and I hadn't always gotten along, as I think I said earlier. Even when I was jealous of him, though, I always loved him. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't just my brother, he was my twin. Regardless of the why, even in our worst fights, I never doubted that he'd be there if I needed him. I hoped he knew he could count on me to do the same.  
  
He took a few deep breaths as we continued on, Leslie and Shannon apparently oblivious to their riders' tension.  
  
"The book I was reading wasn't for school," he began, and I nodded, deciding not to tell him I knew that. "I got it a few weeks ago, like I said, when I was out with Bobbi." Bobbi was this girl he'd been seeing for the past few months. We hadn't met her yet, but Bastiaan seemed smitten.  
  
"It's a book on law." That made sense. "It's about the legal rights available to homosexual couples in different parts of the world."  
  
I paused, sorting that one out. "Bobbi is gay?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Aw geez, bro. I'm sorry."  
  
He looked surprised, if not a little hurt, by my apology. "For what?"  
  
"That Bobbi likes girls. I mean, not that that's a bad thing or anything, but I know you really liked her."  
  
Bastiaan shook his head. "No, no, AJ." He sighed. "That's what I've been lying about. Its Bobby, short for Robert, not Bobbi, the girl's name."  
  
Now I understood. "So, Bobby is a guy. How long have you two been together?"  
  
"Almost a year. It'll be a year in eleven days."  
  
I grinned, before wrapping my brother in a strong hug. "Damn, Bastiaan, could you have waited any longer to tell me? I almost missed out on the anniversary!"  
  
His smile was hesitant but hopeful. "You're not mad?"  
  
"I wish you wouldn't have lied, but I understand why you did. I still love you, Bastiaan. Hey," a thought occurred to me, "since I know, does that mean I can actually meet him?'  
  
"Sure. I'll call him and see if you can hang out with us this weekend."  
  
I was excited. I'd wanted to meet the one that had my brother so happy.  
  
"What do you think mom and dad would say?" he asked.  
  
I had to shrug. "I hope they'll accept it, Bastiaan, but I really don't know. They grew up in a different school of thought, you know?"  
  
Bastiaan nodded. "That's why I've told them Bobby is a girl."  
  
"So what's up with the book?"  
  
"The book I got has the most up-to-date listing in print of the benefits offered to gay and lesbian couples, which states have which rulings, and things like that. We need to know what our options are, and so far The Golden State of California looks like it might be the best bet.  
  
"I'm going to be a lawyer, AJ, I know that much. I also know that I love Bobby, and wherever he goes, I'll follow. He's applying to a few schools out in California. Mom and Dad don't know it yet, but so am I. Whatever firm I find, I need to know if they have domestic partner benefits and such."  
  
"So it's not just about finding work anymore, is it? It's about finding the place where you have the most chance of enjoying your life together," I stated, and my brother nodded.  
  
"Sometimes you're so much smarter than I am, Annika."  
  
I was quiet for a moment, lost in my thoughts. I was thinking of my parents' reaction and found I was just as unsure as Bastiaan, and also very nervous for him.  
  
"I'm glad you're happy," I told him, at last. "I'm just sorry we live in a world, in a time where you have to censor that."  
  
We rode on for quite a while, talking. Bastiaan filled me in on all the details of how he and Bobby met in school, their first date, and all the disgustingly romantic things I wouldn't have wanted to hear regardless of who my brother was dating. But I listened. The way he talked told me how happy he was to have someone to share this with. I wasn't about to take that away from him.  
  
When the sky darkened with heavy clouds, I suggested we turn back before it rained. I could already smell it, the clean scent clung to the air, and I knew it wouldn't be long until the sky opened up. I worried briefly for the mustangs, and then remembered they'd been through several winters just fine.  
  
We didn't make it out to the old Tops' land as I had hoped, but I marked the day as a success, anyhow.  
  
"So what's in your closet that made you freak out?" I asked, on our way back to the house.  
  
"More books," he explained, and read off a few titles. "They're all gay fiction, and very good." From the descriptions he gave, they sounded interesting, and when I asked if he would read the back cover of one to me some time, he hid his surprise very well and agreed.  
  
"Sure had you blushing," I teased, and he rolled his eyes.  
  
"I was afraid you were going to find out," he admitted. I wouldn't have been able to know on my own what they were about, had I found them, but if I'd asked, I knew Bastiaan would tell me. He was too good about being honest with what he read to me.  
  
"Are you going to tell mom and dad?"  
  
He nodded. "Yes, eventually. I think."  
  
"I'll be there with you when you do," I pledged, and he hugged me tightly, Shannon moving closer to Leslie to accommodate the embrace.  
  
"All right, all right," I said, pulling back after a moment and poking his chest. "No more of that this close to the house. Mom might worry about us."  
  
Bastiaan laughed, and I realized with a start that it had been a long time since I'd heard that. Oh, he picked on me, and chuckled when I did something stupid, but I hadn't heard that true deep-throated laugh since? well, I figured it must have been since before he was forced to lie about his heart.  
  
With his help, Leslie and Shannon were quickly rid of their tack, and brushed until their coats were smooth. When we were sure they were comfortable and cooled down, we put them back into the barn.  
  
The barn was large, with enough stalls for all twenty horses, plus their feed and tack. Special treats were kept in one stall, while the large silo outside held the daily feed. A door in the back of the barn was almost always open to let them out to run. A fence separated them from a much larger plot of land, where we kept the cattle. Another few structures could be seen within that fence, being where we milked the dairies, weighed those sent off to the slaughterhouse, and took any cows we needed to separate.  
  
"AJ?" I looked up when Bastiaan called my name. "Thanks, for today. Thanks for understanding."  
  
I shoved him in the direction of the house as we locked up the barn. "Don't thank me yet, bro. This just gives me something else to tease you about," I said, but we were both grinning.  
  
  
  
 **

Chapter Three

**  
  
  
The rain continued off-and-on through the evening and well into the next morning, although it was more often than not just a drizzle, so I wasn't able to go out exploring until the following afternoon. Bastiaan and I had stayed up talking, and he used the phone in his room to call Bobby, who seemed just as excited by the prospect of our meeting. I talked to him for a few moments, and he seemed nice.  
  
"Here," Bastiaan had said, "I want you to talk to somebody."  
  
The phone was handed to me. "Is this Bobby?"  
  
The voice was deep, and the answer was drawled uncertainly. "Yes? who's this?"  
  
"I'm AJ, Bastiaan's sister. I got to warn you, Bobby, you've got your hands full with my brother."  
  
Bobby laughed. "Oh, don't I know that."  
  
"Feel free to pick on him as much as you like. He's very ticklish."  
  
Bastiaan chuckled at that, as did Bobby. "I know, but thank you for the reminder."  
  
I paused, thinking about what to say next. "Well, I guess I'll be seeing you on Saturday, then."  
  
"I look forward to it."  
  
"So do I. Here's Bastiaan," I said, giving the phone back to my brother. I was going to warn Bobby not to do anything to hurt Bastiaan, but figured that could wait until we could speak in person. Then I could take him aside and tell him exactly what I would do to him if he did.  
  
Wednesday afternoon rolled around slowly, and the rain stopped. Anxious to be outside again, I asked my mom if she'd mind if I skipped dinner. She smiled, her blonde hair pulled back into a bun that made her clear blue eyes stand out even more, and nodded.  
  
"Just be careful."  
  
I promised I would, and raced out the door. Shannon looked just as anxious to ride, so I saddled her quickly, and called for Duke. He loped over happily, licking my hand. I scratched his neck, and asked if he wanted to go along with us. He barked his response, and by the wag in his tail, I took it to be a yes. Swinging up into the saddle, I clucked my tongue, and we were off, Duke by our side.  
  
Although we didn't see the mustangs, both Duke and Shannon seemed to smell them, and I was sure not to stay near Mustang Point for very long, so as not to upset either of them.  
  
Continuing on our way, I pulled Shannon to a quick stop when I saw another horse and rider in the distance. Duke sniffed, and growled. I wondered if this was our new neighbor, and why they were on our land. Squeezing my legs gently, Shannon walked forward, and I tried hard to make out who it was. Their back was facing me, so I didn't even know if I was dealing with a man or a woman.  
  
When only about twenty feet remained between us, I pulled back on the reins gently, and Shannon slowed to a halt. The other horse's ears were flicking back towards us, but whoever the rider was didn't seem to notice. I was able to take in more detail from this distance, and noticed that the rider's shoulders were slumped, and from the hitches I could hear in their breathing, I assumed they were crying.  
  
"Hey, there," I called, softly.  
  
A gasp, and the form straightened. Duke stood stiff when the horse and his rider turned to face us. I could see now it was a woman, about my age if I were to guess, though not quite as tall, and tears marked her cheeks. Soft green eyes flecked with gold and some gray stared at me, wide with surprise. Her red hair was cut short, which was why I hadn't been able to tell from the back whether or not she was female, and her lips trembled as she tried to control herself.  
  
"I didn't mean to scare you," I said, slowly moving Shannon closer, telling Duke to be nice. "My name's AJ."  
  
"I'm Kevyn," she sniffled, wiping the tears away.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Kevyn." I was close enough now that I extended my hand. She glanced at it, and then grasped it briefly. "Mind if I ask what's wrong?"  
  
"Oh, I can't believe it!" she exclaimed, and I didn't change my calm expression. "I went out riding yesterday, and it started raining, and I got lost. My parents must be so worried! I can't believe I was so stupid to go out by myself."  
  
I smiled as reassuringly as I could. "Let me guess, your parents just bought the land next to mine. The Tops'?"  
  
She nodded. "Yes, that was the family my father said sold us the land."  
  
"Come on, Kevyn," I urged, taking her horse's reins and looping them loosely around the horn of her saddle so they wouldn't drag on the ground, then clipping one end of a lead rope to the horse's bridle, tying the other end to the horn of my own saddle. "I'll take you home."  
  
"Thank you so much!" She hugged me with a strength that surprised me, and I gently returned the embrace.  
  
I moved forward in the saddle to give her room. "Climb on."  
  
She looked at me in disbelief. "Excuse me?"  
  
I pointed to her gelding. "You've been out since yesterday. Your horse is exhausted. Shannon is plenty rested, and can easily carry both of us. You ride with me, and let your horse follow," I explained, patiently. I assumed she didn't know much about horses.  
  
"Come on."  
  
With a look that said she had to think about it, she moved behind me, and placed her hands on my shoulders.  
  
I chuckled softly. "Here," I said, taking her hands and moving them to settle around my stomach. The butterflies I felt there made me wonder if I shouldn't have let her keep them where they were, but Duke snapped at her, and that thought was gone.  
  
"Duke," I scolded, "this is Kevyn. We're taking her home. You be nice."  
  
He stared at me for a moment, before snorting and sitting down, seeming to agree. I urged Shannon into a walk, and we were on our way. Kevyn's horse followed easily, and Duke kept watch from the ground, casting a glance up our way every now and then.  
  
"Your dog doesn't like me," Kevyn said, the first words spoken since she'd climbed behind me.  
  
I shook my head. "He just doesn't know you yet," I countered. "How long have you lived here?"  
  
"We just moved in last weekend. We're still unpacking."  
  
"Where are you from?"  
  
We made small talk like that for the next twenty minutes, and while I was only trying to keep her mind off how she'd been lost and upset, I found myself truly interested in what she had to say. She was from San Francisco, she said, and while she had taken riding lessons, she'd never actually had a horse of her own. She was nineteen, and taking college classes through the internet, so she could stay at home with her mother, who was ill. The doctors said there was nothing else they could do for her, the cancer was advancing in a delicate area that didn't allow for an operation; the only advice they had was to make her comfortable. That's why her father bought the land, she said, so her mother could have a quiet place to rest, on ranchland much like the area she'd grown up around.  
  
I immediately felt bad for my initial distrust.  
  
"Montana is an amazing place," I told her. "Your mother might just get better."  
  
She smiled. She had taken up leaning her head against my shoulder, so I felt the corners of her mouth turn up. I didn't notice that my hand was resting over both of hers, but she would tell me later that she knew. Neither of us said anything.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Her house was in view by then, though it was still some ways off.  
  
"Are you in college?" she asked, and she must have felt me stiffen, because she instantly took it back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to?"  
  
I waved her off. "No, it's all right. No, I'm not in college. I left school early to help my parents with the ranch so I haven't graduated yet," I said, and although it was a lie, more of a lie by omission, it was only a small one.  
  
 _Hell, I've only known this girl for less than an hour. Why does it feel so bad to lie to her? I have no obligation at all to tell her about the real reason I'm not in college,_ I told myself.  
  
"Wow. Your parents must have a big ranch," she said, and I related exactly what made up our ranch. She was impressed, if her low whistle was any indication.  
  
"You'll have to come over and see our land sometime," I told her, "and I mean all of it, not just the hills."  
  
She laughed good-naturedly. "Thank you again for taking me home." I nodded, and dismounted, before reaching up and offering to help her do the same. I doubted she needed my help, but it just seemed right to offer. She smiled gently, and allowed me to grasp her waist as she climbed down, guiding her carefully to the ground.  
  
She faced me then, and I realized my first guess had been correct. She was tiny. The top of her head came up to about my chin, and while I'd felt muscles under my fingertips when I helped her dismount, her frame was deceivingly small. Looking up to meet my eyes, I realized just how radiant her face was when she smiled, and found myself unable to speak for a moment.  
  
That feeling confused me, and I took a small step back. "Well, I'm glad you got back okay." I unclipped the lead rope and handed her the reins to her horse. "Do you need anything else?"  
  
Kevyn shook her head. "No, I can get it from here. Thank you, AJ."  
  
I nodded. "Hey, um, the next time you decide to go for a ride, give me a call," I said, and recited my phone number. "Maybe we can go together, and that way you can learn your way around."  
  
If her grin was any indication, she liked that idea very much. She pulled a pen from her pocket and wrote my number on her hand, and then went to write hers on my palm.  
  
I folded my fingers down into a fist, stopping her, although she didn't move her hand from beneath mine. "I'll remember it better if you just tell it to me," I said, and then went on, "Phone numbers don't last long on my hands. I forget they're there and wash them off."  
  
"All right," she laughed softly, and gave me her number, removing her hand. To be sure, she had me repeat it to her. When she was satisfied that I would indeed remember, I mounted Shannon once more.  
  
"It was nice to meet you, AJ," she said, and I smiled at that.  
  
"Don't forget to call." With a nod, she turned and led the gelding to the barn behind her house. I waited atop Shannon until she'd finished with the horse, and made sure she had the door open and one foot in her house before I turned and left.  
  
"So, Duke," I told the dog, as we headed back towards our own house, "it turns out our new neighbors might not be so bad, after all."  
  
He snorted at me. If a dog could roll his eyes to express their attitude, I was pretty sure my faithful friend would have followed it with, "Duh".  
  
* * * * *  
  
I didn't explore any more that day, I just returned to the ranch and put Shannon back in her stall, after removing her tack and brushing her down. She wandered out with the others, a few of the horses standing by the fence, conversing with the cows, which lowed appreciatively. The dogs watched this interaction carefully, though I knew none of them would bother the other animals.  
  
When I walked inside, my mother called to me right away.  
  
"Mr. Gibb called," she told me, "and wanted to thank you for bringing his daughter home. What happened?"  
  
I related the story quickly, about how Kevyn had been lost, and that I had merely led her back to her house. Before I was done, my mother had embraced me in a warm hug.  
  
"I'm so proud of you."  
  
I squirmed slightly under all the attention. "Mom," I whined, "I didn't really do anything." I didn't deserve all this mushy stuff.  
  
My dad came in, then, and before he could start praising me, the phone rang and I leapt to answer it, glad for the excuse.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hi? is AJ there?" The soft voice was hesitant, and I smiled into the phone.  
  
"This is AJ."  
  
"Oh. Hi, AJ. It's Kevyn."  
  
"I know," I grinned. "How are you?"  
  
Her voice sounded a bit more certain. "I'm much better." She sniffled. "I think being out all night may have given me a cold, but I'm all right. I just wanted to call to thank you again, and to make sure this was the right number."  
  
I chuckled. "It's the right one." My next statement was supposed to sound casual, but I think I failed miserably. "So, ah, when are you going riding again?"  
  
"Probably not until this weekend. My dad is crazy worried about me and thinks I'm going to get really sick from being out in the rain. So, I promised him I'd stay in for a few days."  
  
I nodded, and kicked myself for not asking her before if she was all right. Staying out all night in the rain would make anyone sick.  
  
"Well, I hope you feel better."  
  
Once again, although she was not leaned against me, I could feel her smile. It made me feel sort of funny, tingly-like. "Thank you. I'll call you if I go out on Saturday, to take you up on your offer. That is, if it still stands?"  
  
"Of course, just let me know. I'll talk to you then, Kevyn. Good night."  
  
We hung up, and before either of my parents could comment, I declared that I was going to my room and dashed up the stairs. First she gets me speechless, and then I start tingling all over? I attributed it to the excitement of perhaps having a friend, and shrugged it off as I turned on the radio in my room.  
  
I listened to the news, but found that the only thing I could think of was Kevyn.  
  
" _Looks like the weather will be warming up for this weekend, just before a large storm front moves into the northern part of the state?"_  
  
 _That's good,_ I thought. _At least Kevyn and I will get to do a little riding before the storm.  
  
"This is the beginning of winter, folks. We can expect this storm to take us through to January, before it starts tapering off for spring?"  
  
Hm? She's from San Francisco. I hope they know how to handle snow, much less a Montana winter. I don't think it snows too much in California. No, what did Bastiaan call it? The Golden State? _ I snorted. _No, I don't think it snows too much.  
  
_ As the news continued on, I closed my eyes, smiling to myself when Scarlett climbed up next to me, curling up in a ball and sleeping against my side.  
  
"Rhett should be home in just a few days," I told her, absently stroking her fur. "Dr. Lisa says he's doing better. I bet you'll be glad to have him home too, won't you, girl?" I got no response, except for a little louder purr. Chuckling, I scratched under her chin for a moment, and then drifted off to sleep myself.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The next day went by quickly. I got up early and helped my dad milk the cows, something I usually did every other week. This wasn't my week to do it, but I was up, so I figured I'd help. We talked a little, and I told him what I had learned about our neighbors, managing to slide out of explaining my meeting with Kevyn by declaring that mom needed me for breakfast.  
  
If he thought my hasty departure a bit odd, he didn't say anything.  
  
I couldn't understand it myself, except to say that I didn't think I deserved any thanks. I had helped someone when she needed it, nothing special about that. Now that I think back on it, I just didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to my time with Kevyn. I didn't know why then, but I would come to realize in just a short time.  
  
After breakfast, I groomed the horses instead of going riding. By the whinnies I got when I took the brushes from the tack shed, they were looking forward to the attention. I loved spending time with them, and so took the time to check their health as best as I could, cleaning around their eyes gently and using the hoof pick carefully. On the pregnant mares, I checked their heartbeat as well as what I could hear of their foals', and was pleased when I found them all to be doing fine. Dr. Lisa came by every month or so, but I liked to do my own amateur examination between visits.  
  
That took me until dinner, and as my brother cleared the table after a delicious meal of vegetable lasagna, I fidgeted, wondering what to do. It was too dark, I couldn't go riding. I went into the living room and turned on the TV for about twenty minutes, until my dad said he was trying to read his paper, so I shut it off. Going up to my room, I sat at my desk, blank paper before me and pencil in hand, but nothing came. My mind wasn't clear enough to focus on any single thing to draw.  
  
Walking over to my bed, I sat down on the edge, and picked up the phone. My brother and I shared the same line, though separate from the main house line. I rarely gave that number out to anyone, but I made calls out occasionally.  
  
I was pretty good with numbers, as long as I didn't have to read them on a piece of paper or anything, and so had no trouble remember Kevyn's number as I dialed. A man, her father I assumed, answered and called for her when I asked.  
  
"When Kevyn didn't come back the other night, we started worrying, and I was going to take the car and start searching for her in the morning. I'm glad Kevyn thought enough to take some food with her when she went riding, but I'm so happy you were there. Thank you again for all your help, AJ," he said, and I smiled a little.  
  
"It's really all right, Mr. Gibb."  
  
"Well, here's Kevyn. Good night, AJ."  
  
I echoed the same, and then Kevyn was on the line.  
  
"Hi, AJ."  
  
"Hi, Kevyn," I replied.  
  
"So, what's up?"  
  
"Not much."  
  
There was silence for a moment, and then she laughed softly. "You called me, silly. Do you need something?"  
  
I blushed, glad she couldn't see me, when I realized that I truly had nothing in mind when I called her. Thinking quickly, I said, "I just wanted to see if you were feeling better."  
  
"My throat hurts a little, but Dad's been pouring orange juice down my throat since I got up this morning, so I'm sure I'll be fine by tomorrow," she said, and I chuckled. "Thank you for calling to ask, though. You're sweet."  
  
I was sure that was one of the last things I was, but if she wanted to think that, who was I to argue with her?  
  
"Well, um, I'll let you get some rest then, let all of that vitamin C do its job," I said, and she laughed again, though I couldn't tell what was behind it this time.  
  
"All right. Have a good night, AJ, I'll talk to you soon."  
  
I blinked. _Soon_?  
  
"Okay." _I can work with soon_. "Good night, Kevyn." We hung up, and I heard my brother laughing from his room. I growled when I realized he must have been listening in, and ran down the hall, throwing open his door. He was lying on his bed, making no effort at controlling his laughter.  
  
"You jerk! You were listening to our conversation, weren't you?"  
  
He took a deep breath, his shoulders still shaking with silent amusement as he said, "I picked up the phone to call Bobby, and heard you talking. I didn't do it on purpose, honest." I glared at him. "Do you always call random people for no reason?" he asked, and I lunged for him.  
  
We wrestled, and he was laughing so hard anyway, it wasn't very difficult for me to roll him onto his stomach, taking his left arm and twisting it behind his back. I put my knee against his spine and leaned against him with all my weight.  
  
"Ah! I give, AJ, let me up."  
  
With one final tug on his arm, I stood, and let him go.  
  
"That wasn't nice," he scolded, rubbing his shoulder.  
  
"Neither was eavesdropping," I countered.  
  
"All right, fine. Geez, relax, will you?"  
  
Reaching out to poke him in the forehead, which I knew annoyed him to no end, I turned and left. I believed that it was an accident, but it was so much fun to pick on him. It had been a while since we'd wrestled. I realized he seemed to be much more at ease around me now that I knew about Bobby. I was glad.  
  
It was good to have my brother back.  
  
Even if he was a pain.  
  
  
  
 **

Chapter Four

**  
  
Dr. Lisa had Stacey call the next morning, and I thanked her with all the enthusiasm I could manage before I'd had my morning coffee. She said I could pick Rhett up anytime, and I promised I'd be back before lunch.  
  
I asked Bastiaan if he wanted to go with me, but he declined, claiming that he was waiting for Bobby to call. I teased him about being whipped, snapping my wrist complete with sound effect and ran from the room. As I closed the door behind me, I chuckled when I heard the pillow hit just a split-second after.  
  
"You missed," I taunted, and ran back downstairs to help my mom with the blueberry pancakes.  
  
"I'm going shopping this afternoon, AJ, do you want to come along?" I smiled at the offer, but shook my head, pouring myself a cup of coffee. I planned on making sure Rhett was comfortable. Also, I had to warn our parrot, Hamlet, about his return. He didn't like Rhett, and had been much calmer while Rhett was gone. He'd start squawking like a maniac as soon as Rhett stepped paw back in the house, I knew it.  
  
Breakfast went well. Mom was pleased with herself, I could tell. Even after all the years of cooking for her husband and family, seeing us take second- and third-helpings made her smile, and whenever Dad looked up from his plate and nodded how everything tasted wonderful there was no mistaking the pride in her soft "thank you".  
  
After Bastiaan had cleared the table, and I'd finished washing dishes so my mom could rest, she kissed my father on the cheek and left for the store. It was about a fifteen or twenty minute drive to the nearest grocery store, so I didn't expect to see her back for at least two hours. Dad was also going into town, to get some more feed for the horses, making sure we had enough once the storms of winter hit. I assumed Bastiaan would be going out to see Bobby, since he was awaiting the phone call, so I would have the house to myself.  
  
I wondered briefly what Kevyn was doing for the day.  
  
As my family went their separate ways for the next little while, I went into the den, adjacent to the living room, where Hamlet's cage was located. That way he could still hear us when we were in the house, but usually didn't get loud enough to bother us if he decided to get noisy.  
  
"Hey there, Hamlet," I greeted.  
  
"Pretty Hamlet," he recited, and I chuckled.  
  
"Yes, you are a pretty bird, aren't you?"  
  
And he was. The markings of the Scarlet Macaw, or Ara Macao, are quite pretty, and Hamlet was no exception. His lower beak was black, but the upper beak was a much lighter color, almost the same as the white skin around his eyes and facial area. Most of his coloring was red, although his wings darkened from the yellow coverts to a dark blue on his flight feathers (the ten feathers closest to the wing tip, the ones that we clipped to make sure he could only glide and not fly), and his long tail was much the same. From head to tail he was nearly three-feet long, and weighed almost three pounds. Hamlet was one big beautiful bird.  
  
He fluffed his feathers for a moment, and then I gently scratched the red feathers under his neck. He preened them when I was done, but then reached out to taste my finger, running his tongue and beak gently over the skin. I smiled at the bird-kiss, and clucked my tongue at him. He repeated the sound, tilting his head at me.  
  
"Rhett will be back today," I told him. He blinked. He blinked again. I made the sound of a meowing cat, and he screeched loudly.  
  
"Rhett," he shouted, as best as he could. Then, calming down as I stroked his back, he spoke, "Here, kitty. Here, kitty."  
  
I laughed softly. He could call Rhett, Scarlett, all the dogs, and my brother. It wasn't often he said my name, but when he did, I gave him a little more time outside his cage than usual. Other phrases and words were fairly common, though I'll admit it was quite funny when he decided to meow.  
  
Sometimes I swear he understood what we were saying to him. He was very intelligent, and loved playing with the toys in his cage, although he preferred his humans.  
  
"Want to come out for a little while, hm? At least until I have to go get Rhett?"  
  
He ducked his head at me, nodding. Bobbing his head and spreading his wings a bit, doing an impression of what I called "buzzard", he called, "Pretty Hamlet. Good bird." I decided that was his way of saying that he deserved to be allowed around the house. If he could state any other qualities besides "good" and "pretty", I figured he'd be spouting them out in rapid fire if it meant some time outside.  
  
My dad let him out at least two or three times a week. I let him out more often than that, if I had the chance, although his cage was plenty large and he had lots to keep him occupied. Clean water several times a day, nuts and fresh fruits and vegetables to munch on, large branches thick enough for him to chew on, and several hanging toys with bells and mirrors to entertain both the bird and any spectators. We took him outside for a bath about once a week, unless the weather was too cold, in which case he was treated to the bathtub and an extremely delicate session with my mom's hair dryer.  
  
He cooed gently when I opened the door and reached in.  
  
"Come on, Hamlet," I urged, and he climbed onto my arm easily, walking up to my shoulder. He began preening my hair, and I chuckled. "Silly bird."  
  
He echoed the nearest thing to a human laugh that he knew, bobbing his head up and down again, as though he knew that he was being funny. He nibbled on the edge of my ear, fluffing up a bit when I squirmed, rubbing my ear with my hand.  
  
"That tickles, Hamlet. Don't do that."  
  
He kissed my nose.  
  
"Aw, I can't stay mad at you when you do that." He knew that, and kissed me again. "All right, all right," I relented, and stroked the feathers on his back.  
  
I walked him around the house for more than ten minutes, his bright tapered tail moving automatically as he kept his balance on my shoulder, before grabbing a bag of macadamia nuts from the cabinet. They were his treats, and he immediately began trying to get in the bag. I pulled it away.  
  
"Hamlet, want a snack?" I prompted.  
  
"Pretty Hamlet."  
  
"Want a snack?"  
  
He nodded his head eagerly, trying to slide down my arm as subtly as he could to reach the bag. I moved it to my other hand, and he stopped moving.  
  
"What do you say?" I held one up in my fingers. "What do you say for the snack, Hamlet?"  
  
"Please."  
  
I raised an eyebrow at him. He knew what came next, and was eyeing the treat so intensely I was afraid he'd just forget about the tricks and snatch it from my hand.  
  
"Please?" I hinted.  
  
He stretched his neck towards the nut, but I moved away again. "Please. Thank you," he recited. I smiled, gave him the nut, and patted his head as he cracked it open, deftly eating the treat from within, dropping the hulls on the floor.  
  
"Good bird," he declared, proudly.  
  
I laughed, and echoed fondly, "Good bird. Hamlet's a good bird."  
  
I'd had the Macaw for several years? almost eight, I believe, which would make him about nine years old; quite young, for a macaw. I'd trained him to say most of the phrases and words he knew, though he picked up a few on his own? like the way he said my or my brother's name. I think he'd just heard my parents calling us so often, he eventually learned how to repeat it. He learned quickly and loved doing tricks, regardless of whether treats were involved. I think he just liked showing off.  
  
"AJ."  
  
I was sitting on the couch with him on my lap, watching the news, stroking his back gently. "Yes, Hamlet?"  
  
"AJ."  
  
I chuckled. "Yes?"  
  
"I love you, AJ."  
  
"Well, I love you, too." I'd taught him "I love you" and "I love you, AJ" quite a few years ago. I used to spend at least an hour a day with him, just talking to him, saying key phrases over and over. He learned quickly, and had an extensive vocabulary, though whether he knew how to use it was another matter.  
  
We rambled to each other for the next half hour, trying to follow a line of conversation that left us both wondering why the other didn't understand what we were trying to say, before I decided it was time to put him up so I could go get Rhett. I turned off the TV, not having paid much attention to it anyhow, and returned Hamlet to his cage.  
  
"Pretty Hamlet. Pretty Hamlet."  
  
I smiled softly, and kissed his beak. "Yes, honey, I know you're a pretty bird. But I have to go pick up Rhett, remember? I can't let you stay out when I go, and I can't take you with me, so that means you have to go back in your cage," I explained.  
  
He tiled his head, and kissed my nose. "Good bird."  
  
 _Ah damn it, why does he have to look so damned heartbreaking when he's begging to stay out?_ I wondered, and kissed him again.  
  
"Pretty Hamlet," I soothed, tilting my arm. He refused to walk down my forearm to one of the branches in his large cast-iron cage. Clicking my tongue at him, he repeated it, before sullenly moving to his branch. He squawked at me when I closed the door, and I told him how pretty he was once more, before turning away.  
  
I turned on the radio before I left so hopefully he wouldn't be lonely, and was on my way to pick up Rhett.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Stacey answered my knock at the door, and smiled when she saw me. She was tall, with hazel eyes and blonde hair. We were the same age, and had I been in high school, we probably would have had a few of the same classes our senior year. She had lived in Montana since she was a few months old, and we shared a love of the land, among many other things.  
  
She was one of the few people outside of my family that knew about my dyslexia. She knew, and didn't care in the slightest. We'd been friends for seventeen years, to hear our parents tell it.  
  
"Muffin!" she greeted, throwing her arms around me. I chuckled. I never understood the reasoning behind half the random names she called me, but I usually replied similarly. It was a banter we'd started years ago.  
  
I returned the hug. "Hey, cookie. I hear you've got my cat."  
  
"Sure do. Come on in." She closed the door softly behind me. "Mom's out with Mr. Benton again, I swear he worries worse than you do about his animals." I chuckled, and followed her through the house to the room where the animals were kept once they were healthy.  
  
I smiled upon seeing the golden ball of fur that was Rhett. "Hey, guy," I said, crouching down to stare in the cage. Yellow eyes blinked back at me as he yawned, getting to his feet when he sensed that he was going to be let out.  
  
"Here, I'll get him," Stacey said, opening the door to the cage and gently pulling him out. I held open the door to the cat carrier and she placed him inside, but only after I'd ran my hand down his back, assuring myself that he really was healed.  
  
Setting the carrier on the ground by the front door, I asked, "How much do I owe your mom?"  
  
Stacey laughed. "Oh, AJ, don't you worry about it," she said, imitating her mother perfectly. "Really, though, it's all right. Just come over and have dinner again some time, okay? It's been too long since we've just hung out together."  
  
I nodded. "Yeah, it has. I'll call you next week and we can get together, all right, schnookums?"  
  
"That sounds great. Hey, did you hear about the new family that bought the Tops' land?" When I nodded and mentioned that I'd met the daughter, she prodded me into telling the tale of how and when and what happened, and then gave me a half-grin.  
  
"AJ, you sweetheart, you," she teased.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Please. I took the girl home. Everyone's acting like it's something to celebrate. I keep expecting my mom to make me a medal or something," I sighed, and my friend smiled a bit at my discomfort.  
  
"You just can't handle that you're the center of attention for once, huh? You did something nice, AJ. I'm so proud of you," came the mock praise, and I shook my head as she hugged me again.  
  
"Don't forget to call, hon," she reminded, seeing me out the door. "I'll come and hunt you down if I don't hear from you by Thursday."  
  
I chuckled. "We don't want that, do we? I'll call you later, Stacey. Thanks again." She waved as I pulled away, Rhett safely in the passenger seat of my truck. I talked to him on the ten minute drive back, telling him that Scarlet would surely be glad to have him back, as we all would. I mentioned that Hamlet missed him, too, though he would be the last to admit it.  
  
I spent a few minutes with Rhett before releasing him to the rest of the house, laughing to myself as I heard Hamlet screech his own greeting to the cat. Scarlet sniffed him animatedly, interested by all the new smells. Except for two small patches where he was missing some fur - it had been shaved by Dr. Lisa, I assumed, to better view the bites - he seemed just fine.  
  
The phone rang, and I jumped, answering it quickly.  
  
"Oh, hi, mom."  
  
"Hello, AJ. Have you brought Rhett home?"  
  
I smiled. "Yes. Actually, Scarlet is welcoming him back right now."  
  
I could hear her repeat the news to my father, who replied he was glad to hear it. "Your father and I are going to have dinner in town, and your brother will be staying out with his girlfriend, so you have the house to yourself for most of the night. Sure you don't need anything, honey?"  
  
"I'll be fine. I'll feed the horses tonight, and see you two later. Have fun," I grinned, and hung up. It had been quite a while since my parents had gone out on anything that could even be remotely considered a date, and I was glad they decided to take some time for themselves.  
  
The phone rang again just a second or two later, and I wondered what my mother had forgotten to tell me. "Whatever it is, I'll take care of it," I said, and was met with a gentle laugh.  
  
"Promises, promises," chuckled Kevyn, and I flushed.  
  
"Oh, I, um, I thought you were my mom."  
  
"Now that's the first time I've heard that one."  
  
I swallowed, embarrassed. "I mean, she just called and I thought, you know, maybe she'd forgotten something," I explained, trying to calm my stammering.  
  
"Uh-huh. Well, I was just calling to see what you were doing tonight. I think my dad wants to invite you over to dinner, and then maybe we could go riding tomorrow."  
  
I grinned. "I've got to take care of the horses tonight, but after that's done, I'm sure I can come by," I said. "I'd love to stop over for dinner. Tell your dad thank you."  
  
She laughed again, something I began to realize she did often? or maybe I just amused her. I found I didn't mind either way.  
  
"He didn't actually invite you, yet. I just figured I'd beat him to the punch."  
  
"I suppose I should thank you, then. Thank you."  
  
She smiled - and there was that damned tingling sensation again, coming from where I couldn't pinpoint? and over the phone? damn! - and said, "You're very welcome. So I'll see you at seven-thirty?"  
  
"See you then." I set the phone back on the receiver and sighed. "Two dinner invitations in the same day. Lucky me."  
  
I was looking forward to the dinner, and yet dreaded it at the same time. I had a feeling that even if I could manage to go without making a fool out of myself, I wasn't sure if I could handle all the attention I was going to receive.  
  
Seven o'clock rolled around quickly. I'd already called my parents to let them know where I'd be in case they needed to get a hold of me, fed the horses, and now stood in front of the mirror in my room. I was suddenly nervous about what to wear? that was new to me. I normally didn't care what I wore so long as it was comfortable.  
  
Standing there in my black jeans, white T-shirt, and black long-sleeved over-shirt, I braided my hair, and looked again. Still not good enough. I grabbed the black cowboy hat from my dresser and grinned. Much better.  
  
Then I remembered my boots were still by the front door, a bit dirty from my time in the mud.  
  
"Crap," I muttered, and ran downstairs. Taking a brush from under the sink, I cleaned the dirt off as best I could, and slipped them on. It was seven-twenty. I had to go! I rushed out the door and climbed into my truck, driving towards the Gibb house. It was no longer the Tops' land, not to me.  
  
I pulled up five minutes early, and stole a quick glance at myself in the rearview mirror. I couldn't figure out why it was so important that I look good, except that I wanted to impress my new friend and her parents? as if helping her find her way back home wasn't enough.  
  
Kevyn opened the door and met me at my truck as I stepped out, and no less than a half-dozen dogs followed.  
  
"AJ, you made it!" she smiled, and hugged me briefly, startling me with the gesture. The dogs sniffed over my shoes and at my pant legs.  
  
"Of course," I said, speaking to Kevyn although I had my hand outstretched to the nearest dog. "I wasn't expecting such a welcome."  
  
"I'll introduce you to these guys later. Come on in, my parents can't wait to meet you." She took my hand and led me inside, as I gave a little mental sigh.  
  
 _It starts?_  
  
* * * * *  
  
Her parents were altogether very nice. Mr. Gibb, though he asked me to call him Patrick, was an art dealer before he moved to Montana. He was middle-aged, with the slightly rounded stomach to prove it. No gray hair yet, and his thick brown hair didn't show any signs of receding any time soon. His deep green eyes gave an excellent indication of his mood, lighting up whenever he looked at his family, clouding with the fight of a masked pain when his wife's illness made itself known.  
  
Kevyn's mother, Diane, had worked as an elementary school teacher until the cancer got too bad. She explained that all of the random cards I would see around the house, made of construction paper with colored stamps or macaroni and a generous amount of crayon for decoration, were from some of her students. They were all get well cards, and some continued sending them, even after they'd moved to Montana.  
  
I repeated what I had told Kevyn of Montana being an amazing place, and received three smiles that said while they appreciated my generous attempt, they didn't believe it for a second.  
  
If it weren't for the telltale signs of chemotherapy, I almost wouldn't have noticed that Diane was sick. She ate very little of our meal, a fact which seemed to bother Kevyn, and although it was plenty warm in the house, wore a sweatshirt and never removed the knitted cap from her head. Her skin was pale and I'm sure her golden-green eyes, a beautiful color combination that she'd shared with her daughter, were bright and sparkling at one time. Now, however, most of the sparkle had dimmed. When she spoke, her voice was soft and gentle, and she shared loving glances with her husband and daughter.  
  
Everyone seemed to feel her time was near. So strong was the atmosphere, I wondered if I'd been invited for the last supper.  
  
I offered to help clear the table and wash the dishes after we'd all finished eating. Initially, Patrick said he wouldn't hear of it, and Kevyn agreed. Then, Diane asked her husband to help her back to bed.  
  
"I'm sorry I can't stay, I'm just so tired lately. It was nice to meet you, AJ," she said, and I smiled gently, mildly concerned as Kevyn darted into the kitchen with her plate.  
  
"Not at all, Diane. You get some rest. And the pleasure is all mine, believe me. Have a good night." The stout Mr. Gibb led her slowly down the hall, her frame thin and fragile beside his own, and I found my way into the kitchen.  
  
Kevyn didn't seem to hear me approach, so intent she was on scrubbing the dishes.  
  
"Do you want some help?" I asked, turning my hat in my hands nervously before setting it on the counter. What was it about her that always got me so flustered?  
  
Though the red-haired girl shook her head in the negative, I saw her shoulders shake and heard her breathing hitch.  
  
 _Aw, damn. She's crying,_ I realized, biting my lip as I wondered if there were any way for me to make her feel better, or if I should just leave.  
  
Moving beside her, I began rinsing the dishes she had washed, saying nothing. We stood like that for a few moments before she glanced up at me, giving me a watery grin. I returned the smile, and gently bumped her shoulder with mine.  
  
"I'm sorry," she sighed, wiping at her eyes when the dishes had been dried and put away. "I just always seem to be crying around you. You always manage to catch me at my worst."  
  
I shook my head, taking a seat on the edge of her bed, just a few inches from her. We had moved to her bedroom where she was telling me the names of all her dogs, and I hoped I wasn't going to be expected to remember them all.  
  
"No, not your worst," I corrected, gently, "there's nothing wrong with crying. I just wish there was something I could do to help," came the admission, before I could stop it.  
  
She reached out and took my hand in hers. "You are helping, AJ." When I looked doubtful, she continued, "I'm glad you're here. Really."  
  
I smiled, and she squeezed my hand. Then she interlocked her fingers with mine, and I blinked when I realized we were holding hands. I was tempted to pull back, if only for the sudden increase in my heart rate, but stopped. She needed my presence, I knew.  
  
Kevyn saw my hesitation and interpreted it another way.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, starting to take her hand back, but I held fast. Green eyes met mine slowly.  
  
"It's all right," I said, and attempted to reassure her with a soft smile. "It's all right. I don't mind." I got another smile for that, and then we fell silent, both lost in our own thoughts. I suppose that's why I hadn't realized we'd drifted closer, our shoulders now touching. Nor did I take in the fact that her thumb had begun tracing light patterns across the back of my hand. Even if I had, I'm sure I would have shrugged it off to her need to be comforted, to feel close to someone. What was wrong with that, right?  
  
"So, tell me about yourself," she said, and I took a few breaths as I brought myself out of my thoughts.  
  
I chuckled softly. "Not a whole lot to tell. I've lived here all my life, worked on the ranch with my dad when I wasn't in school, and tried to survive sleeping in the same house as my brother."  
  
She smiled. "Must be nice to have a brother," she commented, and I snorted.  
  
"Yeah, he's all right. He can be a pain, but all around, I can't complain too much. But what about you? I've never been to California. What's it like?"  
  
Her voice gentle and low, she told me of her life. She was born in California, she said, an only child. She'd been raised in San Francisco, and loved the bustle of the city, but quickly amended that statement by adding 'but I could get used to the quiet of the country, too' when she saw my raised eyebrow. It was an interesting place to grow up, from what I gathered, all the activity and diverse population. And that bridge sounded wonderful.  
  
"But then my mom got sick," she continued, "and we moved out here. The doctors, they told us there was nothing they could do for her, so it was best just to make her comfortable, until?" She sniffled, and I didn't even have to look at her to tell she was crying again. She turned, burying her head in my shoulder, and I wrapped my arms around her before I could even think about doing anything otherwise.  
  
Kevyn tucked her head under my chin as if it were the most natural thing in the world and snuggled closer. I clenched my jaw, praying she couldn't hear how fast my heart was beating, and gently rubbed her back in slow circles. I couldn't figure out why having her so close was sending my pulse through the roof, but I didn't want her to leave. That much I did know. She needed me, needed me to be strong. The last thing I wanted was for her to worry that she was freaking me out and pull away.  
  
"Shh," I soothed, holding her close. I never said any real words, I don't think, I just muttered nonsense phrases that I hoped were comforting. Her breathing steadied out eventually, and I took a quick glance at her to see if she'd stopped crying.  
  
 _Oh, yeah, she stopped crying, all right,_ I smiled to myself.  
  
She had fallen asleep in my arms.  
  
Not stopping to ponder why that statement sounded so nice, I moved away from her gently, lying her back on her bed. Hoping she was asleep enough for my movements not to disturb her, I removed her shoes, and then covered her with a blanket from the foot of her bed. The dogs raised their heads at me when I left, the five that were in the room, and I walked past on my tiptoes.  
  
I wanted to write a quick note thanking them for their hospitality and a fine dinner, since I didn't run into Patrick on my way out the door, and growled again at my inability to do so. I didn't want to let on that I was dyslexic? Kevyn was smart, that was sure to make her feel pity towards me, and I didn't want that at all. So, I let myself out quietly. I drove back to my house without so much as the radio on, concentrating instead on the thoughts and images running through my mind, too numerous to catch one and bring it into focus. My brain and my heart refusing to work anything out that night, I fell into bed with a sigh, noticing my parents had yet to return, and slept peacefully.  
  
I dreamt of beauty, of a large bridge out in the middle of my land, Kevyn on one side with me on the other. She was calling to me, but I couldn't figure out how to get across. I was scared, I realized. I'd never crossed a bridge before. I don't think I'd even seen one. But I heard her words, and they gave me courage, and I took my first step onto the structure, shaky as my legs were.  
  
I awoke gradually as it faded away, anticipating our ride later in the day with much enthusiasm.  
  
  
  
 **

Chapter Five

**  
  
If my mom could tell that I seemed a little distracted during breakfast, she didn't say anything. Until I poured syrup on my fruit instead of my pancakes, that is. Then she spoke up.  
  
"How was dinner last night?" she questioned.  
  
I swallowed my bite of pancake, wondering briefly why they tasted a little dry, and replied easily, "Fine. Mr. and Mrs. Gibb seem like nice folks. And George was right," I added, looking at my dad, "they do have a lot of dogs. I don't even remember all their names."  
  
"What are you doing today? More exploring?"  
  
I shook my head, wiping my mouth after finishing a mouthful of too sweet cantaloupe. "No, I told Kevyn I'd show her around so she wouldn't get lost again." Suddenly, I realized something, and shot a hopeful look at my mom. "I'm not sure how long we'll be out. Is it okay if I miss lunch, and maybe dinner?"  
  
My mom answered with a small chuckle. "Of course, AJ," she said, and I smiled brightly, wondering only briefly at the look my father gave her for that response.  
  
As if on cue, the phone rang and I leapt up to answer it.  
  
"Hello?" I greeted, though I knew who it was.  
  
"Hey, AJ. It's Kevyn, are we still on for today?"  
  
I grinned. "Definitely. Whenever you're ready, I can ride out to your place and meet you there," I said, keenly aware of my family's eyes at my back, making me a little uncomfortable.  
  
"Now is fine. I'll see you in twenty?" she guessed, sounding quite excited.  
  
"Sounds good. See you in a bit."  
  
Knowing Bastiaan would take care of the dishes, I ran out the door, ignoring the intrigued look from my twin. I saddled Shannon quickly and we took off at a trot, the bay enjoying the ride very much, if her proud neck and high-held tail were any indication.  
  
It took me a little longer than I anticipated getting to the Gibb's land, so I wasn't very surprised when Kevyn met me near the barn, already astride her gelding; their only horse, as far as I could tell.  
  
"Sorry I'm late," I said, and the redhead shrugged.  
  
"That's all right. I was going to give you three more minutes and then start looking for you."  
  
I smirked. "I don't get lost."  
  
She grinned, and nudged her mount a little closer. "I never said you'd be lost, I just wanted to find you," was the low response, and after a moment to wonder why my brain was having trouble remembering exactly how to get oxygen, I clicked my tongue and turned Shannon around.  
  
We rode side-by-side in silence for a short while, and I was still trying to figure out what she'd meant by that statement, when she reached out and quickly squeezed my hand. I caught her fingers and didn't let go.  
  
"I just wanted to thank you," she said, gently. "When I woke up this morning and was covered up in bed, I knew it had to be you. You are sweet, AJ."  
  
This time there was no phone line to hide my blush, and she chuckled at the color in my cheeks.  
  
"I'm not, but thank you."  
  
She squeezed my hand, and there we were, holding hands again. The horse moved underneath me, but the only thing I was aware of was the young woman beside me, more specifically, the hand that was enclosed in mine.  
  
So involved was I in the sensation, I didn't realize she'd been talking to me until she tugged on my hand and I looked up at her.  
  
"Where'd you go?" she questioned.  
  
I could feel my flush again. "Nowhere."  
  
She laughed softly. "You know, red really is a good color on you," Kevyn teased, and I tried to smile but ended up feeling even more heat in my face. "All right, all right, I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone."  
  
"I don't usually blush," I said.  
  
"Well, you certainly do around me. Guess I just have that affect on you, don't I?"  
  
"More than you know," I muttered, not meaning to say it aloud. She didn't pick up on it, however, and soon I managed to clear both my throat and my thoughts, beginning to tell her which landmarks were where, and what that meant in regards to finding her way.  
  
We continued through the day, slowly making our way around her property, moving on to mine. Lunchtime came around, and I led her to the creek, dismounting as I left Shannon to graze. I went over to Kevyn's gelding, who I'd learned was named Frances, and reached up. She bit back a small smile and slid into my arms as I helped her down.  
  
"I did take riding lessons," she reminded me, "and believe it or not, I think dismounting was taught in there somewhere."  
  
I stepped away from her quickly, and faced the gently running water. Even I didn't understand the constant urge to be near her, to help her, just to talk with her. We'd only met four days before and I was acting like I'd known her for years. There was no reason for it, but I couldn't help it any more than I could explain it, and that frustrated me.  
  
She came up behind me, and hesitantly placed her hand on my back. I sighed, and she moved to stand at my side.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
I didn't look up. "For what?"  
  
"I'm not sure, exactly. But I know something's made you uncomfortable, and I'm sorry for that."  
  
"I don't even know what it is," I admitted, and she moved her hand up and down my back, slowly. "I just don't have many friends, I guess, maybe I'm not used to being around anyone but my family this often."  
  
She nodded. "Living in such a small town, I can see where that might be true." I didn't correct her. "Do you want me to go?"  
  
"No," I said, sternly, perhaps a little too quickly. "I like hanging out with you, and I like talking with you. I don't want us to stop being friends just because?"  
  
"Then we won't," she promised, as my voice trailed off. She rubbed her hand across my shoulder one final time, and then removed a few sandwiches from Frances' saddlebags. I turned to see her leaning against a tree, holding out the second sandwich to me.  
  
I sat down beside her, and we ate quietly. That was more uncomfortable than my uncertainty, I decided, and tried to start up a conversation.  
  
"Your father's not worried about you getting lost out here today?"  
  
She chuckled, and shook her head. "No, my parents adore you. If I told them you wanted me to jump off a cliff, they'd probably strap a parachute on my back and push."  
  
I finished the last bite, and tilted my head at her. "Why? I'm not doing anything special."  
  
"You're being nice," she said, as if that explained everything.  
  
"And most people in California aren't?"  
  
She raised an eyebrow at me, something I hadn't realized she could do. "Not most of them," she replied. "Even though we lived in San Francisco, there were still a lot of people that had a problem with me."  
  
I blinked. What did living in San Francisco have to do with anything? Maybe I'd ask Bastiaan if he knew. At any rate, both she and her parents thought I was nice. That worked for me.  
  
We finished lunch and traveled until we reached Mustang Point. They were there. The young ones played actively while their parents grazed and kept an eye on us, quietly. Shannon and Frances kept their ears forward, and neighed occasionally to the others, but I wasn't too worried. To be safe, I tied them to a nearby tree, and we sat down in the shade, though the sun was beginning to set.  
  
I told Kevyn what I knew of them, and pointed out those I had named.  
  
"I haven't thought of a name for him, yet," I admitted, referring to the lead stallion.  
  
Kevyn took only a few moments to think, then offered, "Cloud."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Cloud," she repeated.  
  
I took a minute to consider that, and then decided that I liked it. Clouds were usually soft and gentle, but they could become heavy and dark; strong, yet comforting. It fit the large black steed.  
  
"Cloud," I agreed. "Thank you."  
  
We had drifted closer again during our conversation, and when she laid her head on my shoulder, my arm came around her waist almost without any thought at all. I considered moving, but eventually decided not to, as that would draw attention to the fact that I knew we were touching.  
  
 _This is different._ I wasn't clear as to how, exactly, but it was different. I'd held Stacey before, when she was upset, or just when we were sitting together, relaxing. It was just comfortable, and friendly. But with Kevyn? I noticed every breath she took, whenever she changed positions even slightly, and after a time, I distinctly felt her hand as she rested it on my stomach. I was sure Stacey had done the same at some point, but why was it so obvious to me now?  
  
And why was it so important to me that I keep her there?  
  
"What does AJ stand for?"  
  
"Annika Justine," I answered, calmly, though her voice had startled me. I'd begun to wonder if she'd fallen asleep on me again.  
  
I felt her smile. "That's pretty."  
  
"Thank you. It means graceful, and just," I added, and then wondered why I had. She'd probably think it was silly to know such a thing, much less volunteer it.  
  
She didn't. She merely cuddled closer to me, an action I realized I enjoyed, and held her even tighter. "That sounds about right. Does Mulligan mean beautiful, then?" When I said nothing, she patted my stomach. "You're blushing again, aren't you?"  
  
What could I do? She was right, I was blushing. I nodded, ignoring a small voice that told me she was being quite flirtatious. That was ridiculous. What reason could she possibly have for flirting with me? Unless, of course, she liked me, and was interested in me? but that entire idea seemed humorous.  
  
And yet, I wondered if I wasn't right.  
  
She yawned, and I chuckled softly. "We should start back," I said, though neither of us moved for a moment, loathe to break the closeness. Then, she sat up and stretched, yawning again. I got to my feet and walked over to Shannon, mounting easily, holding Frances' reins as Kevyn swung her leg over the saddle, settling comfortably.  
  
"Hey, Nikka," she said, and I raised an eyebrow at the shortened form of my name. The only nickname I'd ever had was "AJ", unless you counted the hundreds from Stacey, which sometimes I swear she pulled out of thin air. But Nikka? One that only Kevyn used? I could handle that, I decided.  
  
"Is that okay?" she asked, noticing my silence.  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Thank you for coming with me today. I had fun."  
  
"You're welcome. Anytime you want to go riding again, just give me a call. Oh, yeah, let me give you my other phone number." I had started to feel a little uneasy about my parents staring at me as I talked with Kevyn. It made me feel like I was doing something wrong.  
  
She wrote it down on her hand again as I read it off, and shot me a sideways grin.  
  
"Hey, I'm just getting all the digits."  
  
I chuckled. "That's my brother's number too, just so you know," I warned her, and she raised her eyebrows.  
  
"Ah, that's right, your brother," and if I thought she sounded interested, I would have laughed.  
  
I nodded, again. "Yeah, we're twins."  
  
"Wow. I always wondered what it would be like to have a brother, but a twin? Is it true what they say, that you have a special connection or something?"  
  
"Sometimes. I mean, we get along really well, and that can be pretty unusual for siblings I guess. But there was one time, when I broke my arm, my mom said my brother started crying about a pain in his arm. They were shopping in town at the time, and didn't find out that I'd broken my arm until my dad called her from the hospital," I added, and Kevyn looked intrigued.  
  
"How did you break your arm?"  
  
I gave her a half-grin. "I was climbing a tree when I was six, trying to follow my cat Rhett, who'd gotten out. He jumped down and I tried to do the same, but didn't land quite as gracefully," I chuckled.  
  
She laughed a little, but then seemed concerned. "I've never broken a bone, but I assume it would be painful. Did it hurt very badly?" She placed her hand on my bicep, squeezing lightly.  
  
I reached up and removed her hand from my arm, taking it in my own as I spoke. "I don't really remember, but I'm sure it hurt some. I'm fine, now," I assured her, and she smiled, her eyes back to their usual stunning brightness.  
  
"I'd definitely agree with that."  
  
I willed myself not to blush this time, and we rode the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, hand-in-hand. I escorted her to the barn, helped her dismount, and helped put Frances' tack away, all without a single blush. Of course, she was quiet, but still, I was proud of myself.  
  
When we were finished in the barn, I walked beside her, leading Shannon close behind, up to her house.  
  
"Thank you for all your help today, and for showing me the mustangs."  
  
I smiled. "No problem. Maybe we can do it again sometime," I said, leaving the offer open, but Kevyn snatched it up in an instant.  
  
With her usual sly confidence that seemed to disarm me, she stood on her tiptoes to place a kiss on my cheek, whispering lowly in my ear, "Count on it," before walking into the house and closing the door behind her.  
  
I stood there for a full minute, I'm sure, staring. Shannon nudged me gently, and I mounted in a daze, letting her take me home, my hand resting on my cheek for some time.  
  
"She kissed me." Shannon nickered softly; she'd seen that. "It was a friendly kiss, right? I mean, because she had a good time, right?" The mare snorted. It may have been a friendly kiss but that wasn't how Kevyn had meant it, I realized, thanks to the imagined comments of my horse.  
  
 _So maybe she really is flirting with me,_ I thought. _Maybe she really likes me. What do I do?  
  
_ I passed by the mustangs again but didn't stop. I was too deep in thought, wondering what I should do about Kevyn. Did I like her? What if I did? What if I didn't? Would that affect our relationship?  
  
Those musings kept me occupied and silent even after I arrived home and took care of Shannon, putting her in the stall. I discovered that my parents had already eaten dinner, as I suspected, declined an offer by my mom to reheat a plate for me, and climbed the stairs to my bedroom. Scarlett was on my bed, and Rhett was in my brother's room, I assumed.  
  
I wanted to be around Kevyn because we had a good time, and she was fast becoming one of my few friends. I was convinced that was my only reason. And surely Kevyn had the same reasons, she just expressed it differently. Of course, that's what was happening. I'd just never made a friend so quickly.  
  
With that settled, I slept easily, looking forward to spending the day with my brother and his boyfriend. I hoped that would give me an idea of what to get the two for their first anniversary.  
  
  
  
 **

Chapter Six

**  
  
Bastiaan was up earlier than I was the next morning, which was unusual; the one who didn't have to get up to milk or feed took the opportunity to sleep in as long as they could. He must have been quite anxious.  
  
He was dressed and ready to go by the time he came downstairs for breakfast. He wore khaki slacks with a black wide belt, a tucked-in black polo shirt, and had his hair combed nicely. My parents teased him incessantly about getting all 'spiffed up' for his girl, and I joined in as well, so as not to let on that I knew anything different, though I did notice a small muscle in his forehead that jumped every time they said "she".  
  
My brother urged me to get dressed quickly while he cleared the table, and I moved with exaggerated slowness towards the stairs, until he growled at me. Then I laughed. He made a move as if to lunge for me, and I bounced up the stairs.  
  
I turned on the radio as I got dressed, listening to the weather as I decided what to wear with my jeans. From the report I heard, I gathered that a jacket might be a good idea, just in case the expected nightly rain moved in early. I tucked in my gray T-shirt and pulled my leather jacket off the hanger just as Bastiaan shouted my name, threatening to leave without me.  
  
"Oh, keep your pants on, bro," I replied, grabbing my hat as I walked out. "I'm coming, already. Geez, you'd think you were excited or something."  
  
"Annika, let's go!"  
  
If he whined any more, I would be forced to make a comment about offering cheese.  
  
"Oh, AJ, there's a letter for you on the table," my mother called before I could follow Bastiaan out the door, and I frowned slightly. A letter for me? Anyone who knew me well enough to send me mail knew better than to write me? Any letters I received were read by my mother, mostly.  
  
Taking it in my hand, I kissed my parents on the cheek as I left, stuffing the letter in my pocket. I'd have to get Bastiaan to read it later, I decided. Maybe when he wasn't so hyped up about his date.  
  
I got a lecture in the truck that I never expected to receive from my brother. He told me all about Bobby, how I wasn't to ask about his parents, as it was a sore subject. Smoking was not allowed, not that my brother or I smoked. If we went to a bar for teen night, it would be a gay bar, so I couldn't tell mom and dad. If they asked, we went to a movie. And above all, I better not do anything to embarrass him.  
  
"Well, you just take away all my fun," I mocked, and he glared at me. He'd been rambling for the past ten minutes and I had only half-listened, knowing he was just blowing off some nervous steam.  
  
"Holy shit, Bastiaan, get a grip. You know I pick on you. I'm gonna enjoy picking on you in front of Bobby, too. He'll help, I have a feeling. But I'm not going to bring out the baby pictures or anything, all right?" He looked relieved, so I grinned and added, "At least, not until your anniversary."  
  
"AJ!"  
  
"Hey, a sister can only promise so much."  
  
* * * * *  
  
The day went quite well. I found that I liked Bobby very much, we seemed to get along extremely well, and had a great time ganging up on Bastiaan. Bobby told me little things that Bastiaan had done or said, either before or just after they'd gotten together, small events that were cute and dripping with saccharine. I, of course, was hard-pressed to respond with a few embarrassing moments of my own, ignoring the daggers my brother was shooting at me.  
  
Bobby was well-dressed, wearing dark slacks with an olive sweater and loafers, so it made a little more sense why Bastiaan had gone to the lengths he had earlier that morning. He was built well, just slightly less muscular than my brother, with sandy-blonde hair and dark brown eyes that lit up every time he glanced in the direction of my twin. He would be nineteen in just three weeks, Bastiaan had told me, so he was only about a year older than my brother and I.  
  
We spent the day at a coffee shop known for its gay crowd, and I could sense the relief from Bastiaan as he and Bobby were able to hold hands and kiss occasionally without fear of the other patrons. It was good to see him so relaxed, so happy, so in love, so? free. Bobby loved him just as deeply, I could tell. There was nothing false in the gentle words he'd speak, or the warm looks, much less the caring touches he would place on Bastiaan's arm or thigh. And he enjoyed making my brother blush with his words and looks, to my delight. I didn't think it would be necessary for me to threaten him with pain of death if he hurt my brother? Bobby seemed like the kind of guy that would do all he could to keep from hurting someone he loved. I liked him.  
  
 _Hm, they remind me of me and Kevyn,_ I thought, and then blinked as it registered. Where had that come from? Me and Kevyn? Did we really look like that when we were together? If so, then, my god, it would seem to anyone watching that?  
  
Bobby called my name, drawing me from my thoughts as I sipped at my coffee, having doctored it properly with French Vanilla flavored creamer.  
  
"So, AJ? What do you do?"  
  
I grinned, and gave a small shrug. "I just help my dad, mainly, and take care of the horses. But in a few weeks, I'll have my name on the papers of our near-thousand-acre ranch." He looked impressed, and showed defined dimples as he smiled.  
  
"I'm going to have to see this ranch of yours sometimes."  
  
Bastiaan looked over at his boyfriend, quickly, reaching out to take his hand. "Honey, you know what I've told you about?"  
  
"I know." Bobby smiled gently, giving my brother a brief kiss. "And it's fine that you're not out. But I would like to see that ranch some day, no matter what pretense it's under."  
  
They talked quietly amongst themselves about the idea of Bobby visiting the house, and I let my gaze wander out the window, people watching for a few moments before looking up at the sky. Clouds were gathering in the distance, though still a ways off, and not very dark. The weather report was wrong, it might be another day or two before the storm hit. This was good, as it would give me another day or so to ride with Kevyn before the weather got too bad and I figured she'd opt to stay in.  
  
We left not long after, Bastiaan and Bobby embracing for a long moment, and sharing a soft kiss that was anything but chaste, and I looked away, feeling very much like a third-wheel, invading upon a private moment. Bobby left in his own car, and I climbed in the truck beside my brother.  
  
I gave him ten seconds before he asked.  
  
He fiddled with the radio dial for a few moments, and then glanced at me from the corner of his eye. I was quiet. I knew what he wanted, but I was going to make him ask.  
  
"So, what do you think?"  
  
I grinned. _Twenty-three seconds. Longer than I expected you to last, bro._ Still, I couldn't resist torturing him a little. "I think the rain won't hit us until maybe Tuesday or Wednesday," I said, casually, and he slapped my arm.  
  
"Annika! You know what I mean."  
  
I chuckled. "I like him, Bastiaan."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"No, I'm just saying that for your benefit. I can't imagine what you see in him."  
  
He looked at me, and I saw he was honest-to-god wondering if he should believe that. I rolled my eyes. Oh, yeah, he had it bad.  
  
"For crying out loud, Bastiaan! Yes, I like him. He seems like a nice guy, and he likes you very much. I think he's good for you. Good enough for you, might be another story, but we'll see," I said, appreciating the gesture when he smiled warmly and patted my knee.  
  
"Thanks, AJ. That means a lot."  
  
I smiled. Somewhere along the way, I seemed to have forgotten that my brother did look to me for help, for advice, and even for acceptance. It was nice to be needed.  
  
* * * * *  
  
That night, during dinner with my parents, they both commented numerous times about the glow coming from my brother's general direction. I grinned, and gave him as much crap as I could manage without giving anything away. He cleared the table, then, and went to his bedroom. I passed his door, and paused, touching the envelope that I still had stuffed in my jacket pocket.  
  
"Hey, Bastiaan," I called, knocking on his door. He called for me to come in, and I closed the door behind me.  
  
"What's up?"  
  
He was on his bed, but he let me see the book he was reading, now, not afraid to hide. That made me smile a little. I felt good, that he trusted me.  
  
"The letter mom said came for me?"  
  
I didn't have to say anything more. He put the book aside and sat up, reaching his hand out for the letter. That was one thing I could always ask Bastiaan to do, read for me, and he'd stop whatever he was doing to help. It embarrassed me at first, but I got over it, and he usually remembered not to tease me until he'd finished reading whatever it was I had given him.  
  
Tearing open the envelope, I gave it to him, and he looked at the envelope first.  
  
"There's no return address," he noted, and removed the letter, raising an eyebrow slightly at the length. "A little over two pages," he muttered.  
  
Clearing his throat, he began,  
  
" _Dear AJ, this is Kevyn. It's almost eleven at night, and I'm up, writing you a letter because I can't sleep, and it's entirely your fault. Even in one night, I got so used to you holding me until I fall asleep, and then tucking me in."_ Bastiaan raised an eyebrow at me, but went back to reading when he got my impatient look. " _I can't seem to fall asleep without it.  
  
"I'm glad you were here last night. It may not have seemed like it to you, but you really helped. Just being with me, letting me cry... I'll admit something to you, AJ, it has been a long time since I've let myself feel anything about my mom's illness, much less cry. I needed that. And I appreciate that you stayed. It means more than you know. And yes, this just cements my belief that you are a sweetheart. Don't deny it. I have proof. I know, and I'll tell anyone who asks.  
  
"Despite my little breakdown, I hope you had a good time. I know my parents really like you, they were glad to meet you, to know we have such nice neighbors. Of course, it's my opinion that my father has just adored you since that first day we met and you led me back home. I told them all about it. Yes, even the things I know you'd leave out, or disagree with, for the sake of modesty. You were so calm and strong. I was a wreck. I'm sure if I'd been thinking clearly, I would have just let Frances lead me home. But I kept trying to find the way myself, and ended up hopelessly lost. There, I said it.  
  
"I was scared, and cold, and sure I would never find my way back. And then here you come, all helpful and nice, gentle and safe. My knight in shining armor. _ And there's a little smiley face drawn here," Bastiaan added, pointing to the page, laughing at my blush. Damn it, that girl could get my face all red just by a letter. It just wasn't fair. I motioned, irritated, for Bastiaan to continue.  
  
" _And I know I already said that I had a good time today, but I want to tell you again. Thank you for showing me the land, it really was fun, and I learned a lot. I'm not nearly so terrified at going off on my own any more. I have less of a chance of getting lost, but just in case, I hope I can convince you to come with me again. You know, for protection. All right, and I like hanging out with you. I'm caught, what can I say? Except that I hope the feeling is mutual.  
  
"Well, I'm going to take a walk to stick this in your mailbox, I think, and maybe by the time I get back I'll be too tired to notice that you aren't with me when I fall asleep. You really are spoiling me, Nikka."_ Another glance from my brother at the nickname, but I gave him a glare that told him it was healthier if he ignored it. " _So, here's hoping you have a better night's sleep than I have so far, though there's no telling what dreams may bring, is there? All bets are off there. I remember you telling me that you're spending the day with your brother. Have fun. I'll be thinking of you. Good night._  
  
"And it's signed 'Kevyn'," finished Bastiaan, folding the letter again and putting it back into the envelope before handing it to me. "Kevyn, that's the new neighbor girl, right?" I nodded in the affirmative, since I didn't think I could speak yet. "Seems like she's quite taken with you, sis. Very open about it, too. She likes you."  
  
I shook my head, fiddling with the envelope. "Don't be ridiculous, Bastiaan," I told him, and he didn't say anything further, but he didn't have to. My own mind was running ahead at ninety miles an hour with plenty of the same ideas. I thanked my brother, and wished him good night, walking down the hall to my own room.  
  
It wasn't that late, so I picked up the phone and dialed Kevyn's number. She answered the phone on the second ring, not giving me nearly enough time as I'd hoped to get my thoughts together, much less my words.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hi."  
  
"Oh, hey, AJ. Did you have fun with your brother today?" she asked, and I smiled.  
  
"Yeah, it was fine. Nice to spend some time with him, you know." She agreed, and then laughed softly.  
  
"You're doing it again."  
  
I blinked. "What?"  
  
"Calling me and then not saying anything. Now, tell me the truth, Nikka, do you really just like hearing my voice?" she asked, with a chuckle, and I found myself nodding, glad she couldn't see me.  
  
"I got your letter," I said, to avoid having to answer her question.  
  
"Ah?" she drawled, apparently unsure of what I would think. I wondered if I should stay quiet, teasing her for a while, but decided against it. But then, what could I say? 'Thanks for the letter, I'm glad you like hanging out with me'?  
  
"Nikka? You there?"  
  
I cleared my throat. "Yeah. Um, the feeling is definitely mutual," I said, before I was even done thinking about my response, filtering through the choices. I bit my lip, but that tingling feeling that came over me told me she was pleased by my statement.  
  
"I'm glad." Her voice was low and sensual, if I had to describe it in words, and it sent shivers over more than just my spine. "I just couldn't sleep, and the only thing on my mind was you, so I thought I'd let you know."  
  
"Yeah, um, thanks. I was really surprised to find it this morning. What time did you actually get to sleep?"  
  
She thought for a moment. "Probably around one, I think. I didn't have to be up until seven, though," she added.  
  
I shook my head. "You need more sleep."  
  
"Well, it's not my fault I couldn't sleep, you know."  
  
I knew what she meant. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that if her getting a decent amount of sleep came down to me driving over every night and tucking her in, I'd do it. An image of that flashed in my head, complete with Kevyn in her pajamas and me kissing her forehead as I covered her up, and I swallowed. What the hell was that, and where did it come from? I ran a hand through my hair, and said nothing.  
  
"You're quiet tonight? are you okay?" she asked, her gentle voice bringing me back to reality, chasing the image to the back of my mind.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I assured her, though I'm not sure she bought it. I didn't even believe me. "Just tired."  
  
"Well, I'd better let you get to sleep, then." I was going to protest. It wasn't really that late, and I wasn't honestly tired at all, and I didn't want her to hang up? but, I relented, I had no idea what to say, or what we would talk about. I just wanted to hear her voice. It was the next best thing to being there beside her. And I missed her.  
  
"Good night, AJ," she said, and I sighed quietly.  
  
"'Night, Kevyn. Sleep well."  
  
I heard her chuckle softly. "I'll try. Oh, and Nikka? Sweet dreams." She grinned into the phone and hung up, leaving me to stare dumbly at the wall, phone still in hand. I knew she was referring to her letter, when she'd said that there was no telling about dreams? Did that mean she was dreaming about me, or had dreamt of me? Or that she was expecting me to dream of her? Did she somehow know of my dream the night before?  
  
I was so confused. Here I was, thinking of kissing her good night, tucking her into bed, being with her constantly, warming at the very thought of her smile, much less her voice? and why? This had to be more than just being happy about making a new friend. Stacey and I had teased each other, sure, we'd been friends for all our lives. But neither of us meant anything by it, and we knew that.  
  
But Kevyn? it was different with her. I got a feeling that even if she was just teasing me, flirting with me even, she meant it more than I understood. Her words and looks were nothing like the ones I got from Stacey. And I had never reacted to anyone like I did around Kevyn. This was all new, and frightening, and I hadn't the slightest idea what to do about it.  
  
I called Stacey, remembering that I needed to do that before she came knocking on the door wondering when I was going to spend dinner with her. She'd said she'd come hunt me down if I didn't? I wasn't going to put her up to it. I knew she'd follow through.  
  
"Hello, Jell-O brand gelatin?" she greeted, and I laughed in spite of my earlier thoughts.  
  
"What'd _you_ have for dinner?"  
  
Stacey squealed into the phone. "AJ! So, when are you going to come over? You promised, remember."  
  
I grinned. "Yes, Stace, I remember. I spent the day with Bastiaan or I would have called you earlier. How's Wednesday night? I'll beg out of helping mom with dinner that night," I said, to Stacey's delight.  
  
"That's great! I'll tell mom." With that line of conversation settled, she asked, "What have you been up to, cupcake? How was your day with the braniac?"  
  
I chuckled. "It was fine." I knew she was teasing. Although she had a boyfriend, whom she'd been with for a few months, she was quite attracted to Bastiaan, something I found humorous considering the circumstances as I knew them to be. "We had fun."  
  
"And?? How's Kevyn?"  
  
"What makes you think I know how she is?" I asked, with a raised eyebrow, and my friend snorted. "Oh, that was attractive."  
  
"I thought so. I know you. I saw the way you talked about her, I know you're set to be friends. So I figured you must have talked to her since Friday." I briefly wondered if Stacey knew more about what was going on than I did.  
  
I sighed softly. "She's fine. I just got off the phone with her, in fact," I admitted, and Stacey laughed, proud of herself. "She, uh, wrote me a letter last night. I got it this morning."  
  
Stacey's voice was kind but interested. "Did you want me to read it?" she offered, and I smiled, but told her no.  
  
"Bastiaan read it to me tonight."  
  
An impatient sigh came from the other end of the line. "Well, what'd she say, for crying out loud?"  
  
I cleared my throat. Twice. "She said she was having trouble sleeping because I wasn't there, so she decided to write me a letter," I said in a rush of breath, and Stacey was quiet for a moment.  
  
"Because you weren't there?" she repeated, slowly, as if she didn't understand. Then it dawned on me - of course she was surprised, it wasn't as though I spent the night at any one's house. In fact, as far back as I could remember, hers was the only house other than my own that I'd ever slept in.  
  
"A sleepover already, AJ?"  
  
"I went over there Friday night because her dad invited me to dinner," well it was sort of true, "and she was upset. She was crying, and she just fell asleep with my arm around her. I covered her up and left." Why did I feel like I had to explain? Stacey's questions made me nervous and uneasy. What was I afraid of her thinking, or knowing?  
  
"Gee, you just sleep with all the girls. I don't feel so special anymore," she joked, and I let out a relieved breath, realizing she didn't suspect anything. What could she have possibly suspected? I asked myself. Then, my mind took me back to earlier in the day with Bastiaan, when I had made the mental comment that he and Bobby reminded me of Kevyn and I?  
  
"Hey."  
  
I shook my head. "Oh, sorry. I'm here."  
  
"You okay?" Now she sounded concerned.  
  
I took a deep breath, and sighed heavily. "Yeah."  
  
"Doesn't sound like you're okay."  
  
"I am. I'm just tired," I lied? again.  
  
"O?okay," she drawled, obviously not believing me for an instant. "I'll talk to you Wednesday night, okay? See you around six-thirty?"  
  
I nodded. "Sure. Sounds good. Good night, Stacey."  
  
"'Night, hon."  
  
We hung up, and I fell back on my bed, staring at the ceiling.  
  
 _God, I'm so confused._ I had all these feelings and thoughts about Kevyn, but I did everything I could to explain myself so that it sounded like there was nothing out of the ordinary going on. And there wasn't. But, oh, if Stacey could just see inside my mind? she'd probably get dizzy. I sure as hell couldn't keep up with everything.  
  
 _Argh!_  
  
Frustrated, I kicked off my shoes and curled up beside Rhett, falling to sleep with some difficulty, resting fitfully.  
  
  
  
 **

Chapter Seven

**  
  
I didn't get to see Kevyn on Monday or Tuesday, though I talked with her every night on the phone in my room. She said she needed to catch up on some homework Monday, and her mom had to go the doctor on Tuesday for a checkup, so she wanted to be with her. I told her that was perfectly all right and completely understandable, and she was in my thoughts more often than usual on Tuesday. I worried about her, and missed her. Even talking with her every day, I had to admit to myself it wasn't enough.  
  
Our conversation Tuesday night was short.  
  
She called me, and I turned down my stereo as I answered quickly.  
  
"Hey, Nikka," she said, and her voice was sad.  
  
"Hey," I replied, softly. "Are you okay?"  
  
She sniffled. Damn, she was crying? I wanted to just hang up and drive over there, hold her tightly until she fell asleep. I didn't know if that would do any good, but it would make me feel better.  
  
"The doctors said there was no change. I didn't really expect there to be, you know, but every time her checkup comes around, I always hope a little. Maybe it'll suddenly be in remission." She sighed. "But that's stupid."  
  
"No," I corrected, immediately. "You have to keep hope, Kevyn. There's nothing stupid about that." I swallowed, and asked, "Do you want me to come over?"  
  
She laughed sadly, and I heard her breath catch, and I knew for sure there were tears falling down her beautiful face. Just two miles away. Even if I had to walk, I could be there in?  
  
"No, it's all right," she said, and I blinked. "I think I'm just going to go to bed, anyways. But thank you."  
  
"Of course. Call me, Kevyn. If you need anything, even in the middle of the night, you call me, all right?" I told her, evenly, and was going to continue, but she spoke.  
  
"I will," the redhead promised, gently. "Thank you. You're so wonderful, Nikka. Good night."  
  
"'Night, Kevyn."  
  
I spent the two days riding around the property some more. I stopped by Mustang Point on Tuesday, and spent a few hours just sitting under the tree, sketching a little. I couldn't write very well, but I'd always had a talent for drawing, and found the horses to be beautiful subjects. Drawing relaxed me, as it allowed my mind to focus on one thing and one thing only, tuning out any other worries or concerns in my life.  
  
I sketched Cloud and Little Star easily, spending a bit more time on Rose, trying to get the marking on her face as accurate as possible. When I had done all the shading I could do with pencil, I decided it was time to head back so I could color them in before dinner.  
  
Wednesday morning, just after I finished clearing the breakfast dishes, I had to dash up the stairs into my room, hearing the ringing of the phone. It stopped just before I reached my door, so I figured Bastiaan must have picked it up.  
  
"AJ," he called, "it's for you."  
  
I picked up the receiver by my bed. "I've got it," I told him, and a voice full of sleep mumbled "Okay" as my brother hung up. He'd gotten up to help my father with the cows and the horses, and all through breakfast I could tell how tired he still was. He'd been up all night on the phone with Bobby, was my guess, so it was no surprise that he had plans to go back to sleep.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey, Nikka."  
  
I smiled. "Hi. What's up?"  
  
"Ceiling."  
  
I paused, and then smirked. "Funny."  
  
Kevyn chuckled. I was glad that she seemed to be in a much better mood than the night before.  
  
"What are you doing today?"  
  
"Um? I just finished helping my dad, so I don't have anything else really planned for the day. I do have dinner with a friend, but not until later tonight. Did you want to go riding?"  
  
"Yeah, if that's okay."  
  
 _If it's okay? Definitely!  
  
_ "Sure. I can saddle up Shannon and be over in just a little while."  
  
I heard her let out a breath, as though she wanted to say something but then changed her mind.  
  
"What?"  
  
She sounded a little unsure. "Frances got into the tack shed and scared herself, and she kicked a hole through the side of it. Tore up her left hind leg pretty good. The vet says she'll be all right, but I won't be able to ride her for a few weeks, until it heals. But I'd still like to go riding? can we ride double?"  
  
I swallowed. "Sure," I agreed, clearing my throat when my voice squeaked, and trying again. "Sure. Not a problem. I'll see you in about twenty minutes."  
  
We hung up, and I took a deep breath. _Oh, boy._ The idea of riding with her that close to me, moving against me, feeling her smile against me again? this was getting ridiculous. She was my friend. What was up with my hormones, for Christ's sake?  
  
I didn't see Duke when I walked out, and assumed he was out chasing rabbits somewhere. Perhaps with Shanahan, since I didn't see our Corgi, either. They often went out to play after helping with the cattle in the morning. I called to the Australian Shepherd, Kelman, who leapt off the porch towards me, happily wagging his tail.  
  
"Come on, boy, let's go riding, hm?"  
  
Ramya raised her head, and got to her feet slowly, the wolfhound looking at me, hopefully. She and Kelman got along well, and were often inseparable. I whistled. "Come, Ramya. You can run with us, too."  
  
She raced over, jumping up on me playfully, nipping Kelman's ear in her excitement.  
  
I saddled Shannon after brushing her down, tightening the cinch and swinging my right leg over to the off-side stirrup. "Hup, hup," I called, and squeezed my knees against the mare's side. She took off at a trot, the dogs following faithfully behind, jumping and playing as they ran.  
  
Kevyn was waiting on her front porch, sitting on the steps, and stood when she saw me arrive. She was wearing tight blue jeans with a bandana-like shirt which tied in the back, and hung loosely, the point ending at the button of her jeans. I could clearly see the muscles in her arms and the taut stomach I'd always suspected she had, watching the muscles in her abdomen play as she walked towards me. I swallowed, hard.  
  
 _Oh, god. There go those damned butterflies again,_ I thought, _not to mention my hormones. Wow, she's beautiful.  
  
_ "Hi," she smiled, brightly.  
  
I returned the smile, hoping I didn't look as frightened as I suddenly felt. "Hey. Ready to go?"  
  
"Yep." I offered her my hand, scooting forward so she could climb up behind me, and she paused. "Mind if I drive?" I blinked, and moved back, pulling her up in front. Automatically, my arm went around her waist, hand resting on her stomach as she leaned back, settling against me.  
  
Unbidden, my mind flashed back to Bastiaan and Bobby, and I removed my hand from her bare stomach, grabbing the reins instead. The position we were in, I had to lean forward to hold the reins, my chin nearly resting on her shoulder. This would never work. The butterflies in my stomach would eat me alive. Wrapping the reins around the saddle horn, I decided now was as good a time as any to see if Shannon remembered how to be lead by knee commands.  
  
"What are you doing?" Kevyn asked, confused as I moved back a little ways, now that I didn't have to hold the reins.  
  
I thought quickly. "I can lead Shannon with pressure from my knees," I stated. "That way we can both just relax."  
  
She gave me an odd look, and then faced forward again. "Uh-huh."  
  
We rode around areas that I hadn't even been to yet, chatting idly, Shannon doing extremely well with my commands, considering I had put her on the spot. Kelman and Ramya enjoyed the outing, scampering after anything that moved, splashing through the creek when we passed it, making my friend laugh.  
  
I asked about the classes Kevyn was taking for her college over the internet, and she told me that most of her prerequisites had been taken care of, since she took some college during high school, and a few advanced classes helped with that, too. She tested out of English, and honors programs managed to get her out of history and math. Everything else she had managed to do her first year in college while she was in San Francisco, so the only ones she was really taking over the internet were electives, like psychology and art appreciation.  
  
"I only have a few more units left until I can get my associates," she said.  
  
"That's good. Do you miss being at an actual college?" I questioned, forcing myself to move back again. I kept leaning towards her involuntarily, not realizing it until I was pressed up against her back. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I rested them on my thighs, drumming my fingers in time with my nervous energy.  
  
She thought about that for a moment. "Sort of," was her reply, at last. "I mean, I like doing the work online, that's nice. And the size of the class really doesn't matter since it's just me and computer, ultimately, so I like that. But I do miss some of the people. The GLBT club on campus was full of great people? we had some fun times."  
  
Not wanting to sound even more obtuse than I already felt, I decided to wait and ask Bastiaan if he knew what 'GLBT' stood for, rather than making a fool out of myself and asking Kevyn.  
  
I brought my mind back to the present, as the redhead in front of me was still speaking.  
  
"But, do I regret moving out here? Not at all." She reached back and squeezed my hand, locking her fingers over mine, our joined hands resting on my thigh. "I think it's been a good change for my parents, and I've met you. More than San Francisco can even dream of competing with."  
  
I was glad she didn't turn around so she missed my blush. I really needed to try to get a handle on that certain reaction. Taking a slow breath, trying not to pay attention to the way she was gently rubbing my knee, I tilted my head back, and frowned at the gathering storm clouds. They weren't far off. I must have been concentrating too hard on Kevyn, I missed the smell and the telltale sign of a slight increase in wind speed. It wasn't very late, maybe one in the afternoon, but it was rolling in early.  
  
Guiding Shannon to turn around, it didn't take Kevyn long to figure out what was happening.  
  
"We're going back? So soon?" I nodded, and was about to explain, when she said, "Nikka, I'm sorry if what I said bothered you, but please?"  
  
I interrupted her, gently, my left hand reaching around to her stomach, hugging her back against my chest for a brief moment. "Look," I urged, moving my arm quickly to point up into the darkening sky. "The rain clouds are moving in. We've got to turn back before it hits."  
  
Her response was a quiet, "Oh."  
  
I rubbed her shoulder. "You okay? I didn't figure you'd want to stay out in the rain." As it was, she looked cold, and I slipped my long-sleeve flannel shirt over her shoulders. She tried to protest, but I held it there for a few moments. Finally, she put her arms through the sleeves and pulled the front closed.  
  
"Thank you. Yeah, you're right. We don't want to get caught in the storm. Wait, won't you be riding back in the rain?"  
  
I shrugged. "It's all right, I'm used to it. Don't want you getting sick again." She smiled at my expression of worry, squeezing my knee, and I tensed. She must have noticed, as she went back to holding my hand. I was glad, because the butterflies in my stomach seemed to have grabbed hold of my hormones and were flitting around with them like crazy. I had the sudden urge to lean forward and just bury my face against her neck, pulling her close to me and kissing her shoulder.  
  
I was leaning forward to do just that, when the first drop of rain hit me, running down the back of my shirt. I arched my back in surprise, successfully pulling back from Kevyn, shaking slightly at the realization of what I had nearly done.  
  
"Too late," Kevyn chuckled, holding her hands out to catch the drops as they fell. We were nearly back to her house as it was, and the rain was slow, a bare drizzle, even as I slid to the ground and helped my friend dismount. Her hair was damp, what was left of the sunlight made her seem to glow, and the water trailing down a firm stomach and a shapely neck made me take a step back, startled by the throbbing sensation in my gut.  
  
Though I stepped back, she stepped closer, and all I could do was watch her come near. My eyes widened. Why was she looking at me like that? Her eyes were a darker green than I had ever seen, and it seemed as though she was biting her cheek to keep from smiling. What the hell was she up to?  
  
She kissed me. I felt her lips on mine as though nothing else existed. There was only her mouth, her warmth, her unbelievable softness, her closeness, and the feelings of surprise and fear and desire washing over me, the pounding in my throat and in my belly, and? well, there was a lot of pounding.  
  
Her hand on my neck brought me out of my shock and I took a half-step back, then another. I must have looked as scared and confused as I felt, because she didn't reach out for my hand, nor did she move towards me.  
  
"I?"  
  
She looked afraid now, too. "Nikka?"  
  
"I? Kevyn?"  
  
Lids closed slowly, and when she opened her eyes again, emerald pools were cloudy with regret and tremendous sadness, as though realizing she had just made a terrible mistake.  
  
"Oh, god."  
  
"Why? why did you do that?" Oh, look, I could form a whole sentence.  
  
Kevyn's expression was one of masked pain. "I've been flirting with you since the day we met. I won't lie to you. I really, really like you, Nikka," she said, and I looked down for a moment.  
  
When I glanced back up, I caught the crestfallen look before she could hide it that said I wouldn't have to speak a word; my gestures had told her everything. But I couldn't do that. She deserved some sort of explanation, though why I thought I could give her one when I hadn't come up with one myself is still beyond me.  
  
"I like spending time with you, Kevyn," I told her. "I really like hanging out with you? but I'm not gay."  
  
She bit her lip, softly. "I see. I'm sorry I've made you uncomfortable, tonight and every time before. It won't happen again. Good night, AJ." With that, she walked into her house as I tried to figure out why I was dying inside, and why I had to bite my tongue to keep from calling to her.  
  
The rain continued, and I urged Shannon to take me home, the dogs whining up at me, sensing my mood. I realized I would have quite a bit to tell Stacey that night at dinner.  
  
* * * * *  
  
I called Stacey not long after I got in and asked if I could come over earlier than we had planned. I caught her eating lunch, and she offered for me to join her, since she didn't have any other classes that day. I told my mom that Stacey had asked me to come over a little earlier, and she said that was fine. I think she was glad to see me spending time with Stacey again.  
  
I thanked Ramya and Kelman for going with me on the ride as I walked out the door, climbing into the truck and heading down the road before I realized that Kevyn still had my long-sleeved shirt, so I was clad in only my T-shirt. I was cold. But I didn't really notice it; I was lost in my own thoughts, too busy to pay attention to what was going on with the outside of my body.  
  
Stacey greeted me at the door, throwing her arms around me, her voice worried when she noticed that I was holding on much tighter. "Hey, hon, what's going on?"  
  
"Can I talk to you?"  
  
She kept her arm around me and led me to her room. "Sure thing. Come on." We sat down on her bed, and I immediately grabbed a nearby stuffed animal, hugging it to me as Stacey sat beside me. She stroked my arm. "Hey, you've been out in the rain for a while. You should get out of those wet clothes," she said, and set out to finding me a pair of dry clothes that would fit.  
  
I changed right where I was, knowing Stacey didn't care. She took my clothes and hung them over the rod in her shower to dry, and then joined me again, putting her arm around my waist.  
  
"What is it, AJ?"  
  
I took a deep breath, and said, "Kevyn kissed me."  
  
She looked at me, evenly. "What did you do?"  
  
"I stepped away from her and told her I'm not gay."  
  
Stacey flinched in sympathy. "What'd she say?"  
  
"She just walked into her house, after apologizing for making me uncomfortable. I really hurt her, Stacey. I think she's mad at me."  
  
"Do you like her?"  
  
I clutched the small elephant tighter. "I? yes."  
  
"So then why don't you tell her?"  
  
"I'm scared," I confessed, and leaned against her. She held me close, and before I knew it, I was crying. Why, I'm not sure. Maybe because I'd hurt Kevyn. Maybe because I was so confused. Maybe because I'd hurt myself. Whatever the reason, I kept Stacey occupied rubbing my back and kissing the top of my head for quite a while, until I calmed down again.  
  
Stacey tried to soothe me, running her fingers through my hair gently. "Honey, you've never been around people our age, have you? Not very often, I mean?"  
  
I shook my head. "No, I spend most of the time at the ranch."  
  
That seemed to be the answer she was expecting. "I think you're more scared about these feelings that you have, not who they're about. You've never had a relationship, AJ. You left school before you were at the age of having serious crushes and dating experiences, things like that. You missed out on so much more than just reading, my friend. I think that might be what really has you running."  
  
"Really?"  
  
She nodded. "That's what I think."  
  
"So, then, what do I do?"  
  
"I don't know on that one," my friend admitted, softly. "Maybe let her talk to you when she's ready, wait for her to call. Or talk to her if you want. But get your feelings in order, first. You should know what's going on in that head of yours before you let anyone else in on it," she advised, and I hugged her with all my strength.  
  
"Thanks, Stace," I murmured, and she kissed my cheek.  
  
"Anytime, baby doll. You ready for dinner?"  
  
"Is it that late already?"  
  
She grinned. "Mom called us a few minutes ago. Come on." She took my hand, and let me compose myself before we walked into the dining room, Dr. Lisa greeting me warmly. She didn't look quite old enough to be Stacey's mother, I'd always thought. She had light brown hair with gentle waves, and hazel eyes that never seemed to invite anything but warmth and compassion for every living thing. A nearly constant smile was proof of the depth of her heart. She and Stacey were about the same height, which meant I was taller than both of them, and my friend had a slightly thinner frame than her mother.  
  
I enjoyed the company, but ate little of the delicious meal, contemplating my many choices until they began churning in my stomach and not just my mind, effectively erasing my appetite. Stacey and her mother didn't say anything about my mood, but kept me involved in the conversation as subtly as they could. I loved them both for not prying, though Stacey knew what was going on. I changed back into my clothes after dinner, smiling slightly when I realized Dr. Lisa had thrown them into the drier at some point, so they were now warm.  
  
By the time I drove back home, after receiving a long hug from Stacey and a request to call her right away if I needed to talk anymore, I was no closer to finding an answer. I had no idea what to do. I didn't know what was best, to let Kevyn call me, or to call her. I figured if she was mad at me, maybe it wouldn't be good to call her. She might not like that. When she was calm enough to want to talk to me again, she could call my phone.  
  
Though I had decided to wait for word from Kevyn before I did anything, my thoughts were still all muddled; nothing had been solved on that front. I had hurt Kevyn, and I had hurt myself. I liked her, but I wasn't sure exactly what that meant, or what I was supposed to do about it. What would she expect me to do? What if I couldn't do it? What if I failed, and let her down?  
  
God, even hypothetical relationships were a lot of work.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Two days passed and I hadn't heard from Kevyn. She hadn't called, she didn't write, and I'll admit I actually checked the mailbox each morning, hoping. It's a good thing it wasn't my week to help dad, because I don't think I could have done it. I helped mom cook only because it was habit, I answered every question monosyllabically, and made no attempt to engage anyone in conversation. I was moping, and everyone knew it. I didn't even have a desire to go out riding, or to watch the lightning streak across the sky during the storm, things I normally jumped at the chance to do.  
  
Finally, my brother pulled me aside, dragging me into his room one night after dinner.  
  
"I don't know what's going on with you, AJ, but you've got to snap out of it. What happened?"  
  
I sighed heavily, and sat down on his bed, drawing my knee up to my chest. I wasn't sure I really wanted to talk about it, about everything, but if I couldn't turn to Bastiaan, than I had nothing.  
  
"Bastiaan, how did you know you're gay?"  
  
His eyes widened, and I heard him mutter, "Oh, boy", under his breath. He gave me a gentle look as he asked, "Why?"  
  
Slowly, I told him everything. All that had been said and done since I first met Kevyn, in detail. The things she would say, how I felt around her, every blessed thing. More than I had even admitted to myself, I think. He grinned a little when I told him how often I'd blushed, and then winced at a few things, such as when I'd told her "? but I'm not gay".  
  
"You're sending her mixed signals, AJ."  
  
I blinked. "I'm what?"  
  
"Think about it. You're holding hands with her, hugging her, spending every possible moment with her. Then when she touches your knee, you tense up. It wasn't a forceful kiss, and I'd guess she probably just wanted you to know how she felt. And she thought maybe you felt the same way, since you were always so physically close, but you pull away. It doesn't surprise me at all that she was upset," he said, and I hung my head.  
  
"What do I do, Bastiaan? I think she's really mad at me. I hurt her."  
  
I felt his hands go to my shoulders, supportively. "You like her?"  
  
That much I had become clear on in the past days. "Yes."  
  
"And because you like her, you're worried that you're gay?"  
  
I nodded hesitantly, explaining, "It's not that I'm really afraid of being gay, that's not a bad thing. It's just?" I struggled to find the right words to tell my deepest fear. I thought about what Stacey had said. Finally, I just met his gaze and said, "Part of it is I don't know what to do, and that scares me a lot. And part of it is? mom and dad."  
  
I watched as understanding dawned in his eyes. "Go with your heart, AJ," he instructed, firmly. He put his finger to my forehead, "Don't listen to your head. Don't pay attention to the fears of what other people might say or think," and then to my chest, "Follow your heart. In the end, that's all that matters.  
  
"As for mom and dad? if they find out, or if you decide to tell them, I'll be there. We'll get through it together. Just go with your heart. It doesn't matter if you're scared or confused when you speak, just tell her how you feel. Ignore any labels or stereotypes. When it comes down to it, we're all human and it's all the same emotion."  
  
I smiled softly, hugging him warmly. "Thanks, bro."  
  
He pulled me close, kissing the side of my head. "Nothing worth getting or doing is easy," he whispered. "Listen to your heart, Annika. If you get lost, let it lead you. Be yourself."  
  
"I'll try," I promised, and pulled back. "I was going to wait for her to call, but I think I'm going to go over there right now."  
  
"Wash your face, first, and you might want to change clothes. You look terrible," he cracked, and I rolled my eyes.  
  
I did as he said, however, and washed my face until my eyes looked slightly less puffy. Then, I ran a brush through my hair, put on a clean shirt, and walked out the door. My stomach was in knots, made by the butterflies, which seemed to have brought a lot of friends to tangle my nerves. I was scared out of my mind, and shaking like a leaf, and I'd never been so sure I was doing the right thing.  
  
I pulled up and took a deep breath, stepping out of my truck and greeting a few of the dogs that came my way. I walked up and knocked on the door before I had enough of my wits about me to pull my hand away.  
  
Patrick answered, but didn't smile.  
  
"Um, is Kevyn here?" God, even my voice was trembling. Bastiaan had better know what he was saying, telling me to follow my heart, because just then my head was screaming at me to run.  
  
Now I got a small smile. "I'll get her. Come on in, AJ, have a seat in the den." He closed the door behind me and walked down the hall to Kevyn's room as I made my way into the den and sat on the couch.  
  
Kevyn appeared in the doorway a few moments later, and I jumped to my feet.  
  
She didn't smile, either, and I noticed a haunted look to her normally vibrant face. "What is it, AJ? I have your shirt; I'll get it, if that's what you came for."  
  
I swallowed. This was it. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry, for what I said the other day."  
  
Kevyn shook her head, waving away my apology. "You don't owe me anything, AJ. Don't apologize for how you don't feel."  
  
"But, I hurt you."  
  
Her smile was forced. "I've liked you for as long as I've known you, which feels like so much longer than just a week, but I shouldn't have been upset when I found you didn't feel the same. It's all right."  
  
"It's just? I love being around you, Kevyn. When we hold hands, or when I give you a hug, I feel it all over, warm and tingling and? awesome. You make me feel good, and happy, and special. You know me so well?"  
  
She nodded, again dismissively. "I know? I feel that, too, but it doesn't have to mean anything."  
  
I looked at my hat, which I was touching nervously, and then gathered the courage to raise my head, looking at her again. "I know it doesn't have to, but can it?" She turned her head slightly, but kept her eyes on me, as if she was afraid to answer, afraid to believe? afraid to hope. "I like you, Kevyn. A lot."  
  
"Just because I said it doesn't mean you have to say it back," she told me, and I frowned.  
  
"Damn it, that's not what this is." Finding my voice, I let my heart dictate my words. "You're all I can ever think about. I don't know about being gay, I don't know what I'm supposed to do here, I don't know much of anything except for how I feel. I want to be with you all the time, I want to make you happy when you're sad, I want to hold you when you're tired, I want to be the one you turn to for anything.  
  
"And I don't know what that means for me, or what it means to you, but I'd like to find out what it means for us. Together," I finished, and I was still trembling. I'd just rambled on nervously, and it would be a miracle if she understood what I was trying to say.  
  
She was still cautious. "Why are you telling me this?"  
  
"Because I've been miserable without you, and I just wanted you to know."  
  
She took one step towards me. "Are you sure?"  
  
I nodded slowly. "I've never been this sure of anything in my life."  
  
Another step closer. "I couldn't take it if this was just an experiment," she said, evenly, her tone begging me to say anything but that.  
  
"I would never do that." I licked my lips. An experiment? As though I would just use her and be done with it? No. I had to convince her that wasn't going to happen. "I may not know what to do, or say, but I know my heart. This is real, and this is true," I promised.  
  
The next moment she was in my arms. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, holding her against me with all my strength, eyes shut firmly as I absorbed the feeling.  
  
"I missed you so much," I confessed, and she squeezed me gently before taking a small step back.  
  
"I've missed you too, AJ." With a small grin, shyer than I'd ever seen her, she asked, "Can I kiss you, again?" I swallowed my fear and nodded, leaning my head to meet her lips, feeling that same delightful warmth as before, savoring every moment, knowing I would never stop the soft caress of her mouth on my skin ever again.  
  
Only the sound of Patrick clearing his throat for the third time broke us apart, and I jumped, looking down at Kevyn with wide eyes full of panic at being caught, my heart hammering from more than just the kiss.  
  
Kevyn took my hand and said soothingly, "Relax. It's all right, AJ."  
  
"So I take it you two worked things out?"  
  
I blushed as Kevyn beamed. "Yes, we did. Now, be nice, dad."  
  
Patrick chuckled, mentioning casually before he turned away, "Thank you for bringing back her smile, AJ." Then, the stout man turned and padded down the hallway towards his wife.  
  
Kevyn tugged on my hand and urged me to sit beside her on the couch. "What brought on that deer-in-the-headlights look?" she asked, and I glanced at her.  
  
"He knows?"  
  
"Yes," she replied, slowly, as if not understanding right away what one had to do with the other. "Both of my parents know."  
  
"And? they're okay with it?"  
  
Now she seemed to realize what I was getting at. "You were afraid they'd be upset, and you'd be in trouble," she stated. I nodded. She squeezed my hand. "I'm lucky; my parents have always been very supportive. As long as you're here, you don't have to worry. I promise."  
  
I sighed. "I don't think my parents would be very pleased if I tell them," I admitted, beginning to comprehend the dread my brother must have felt.  
  
"So don't tell them. At least, not right away," the redhead added, seeing my look of disbelief. "You don't have to say anything to anyone, unless and until you're comfortable."  
  
I agreed, reluctantly. It wasn't as though I was looking forward to telling my parents, but I didn't like the idea of keeping things from them. I sighed mentally. I definitely needed to talk with Bastiaan again.  
  
We stayed on the sofa for nearly another hour, Kevyn finding what seemed to be her favorite place against my shoulder, lying against me until my right arm fell asleep. This was a completely different tingling sensation, and while not entirely pleasant, I didn't want to mention it, for fear she'd move.  
  
"You should have told me," she said, sitting up, and I blinked. "That your arm fell asleep, silly. I saw you rubbing it," she elaborated, and I shrugged.  
  
"Didn't want you to move." The confession came forth of its own accord, and I blushed.  
  
She smiled, leaning close and kissing my cheek. "I tell you, AJ, you are a sweetheart."  
  
As she began gently rubbing my arm from my bicep to my wrist, getting the circulation flowing again, I cleared my throat to try to ignore the interesting sensations that caused, and asked, "Call me Nikka."  
  
I got a hug for that one. "I wasn't sure if you liked me calling you that," Kevyn said softly, but I pulled her closer, assuring that I did in fact like it, very much.  
  
When my watch beeped the ten o'clock hour, I decided it was probably time for me to start heading home, comfortable as I was sitting there with Kevyn securely in my arms. I had merely shouted my destination down the hall as I ran out the door, so my parents were sure to be worrying at least a little. Unless maybe Bastiaan had talked to them, assured them that I was fine, I just needed to talk to Kevyn. Maybe I could stay a little longer.  
  
The form beside me snuggled closer, and I kissed the top of her head softly. Yes, maybe I could stay.  
  
"Your heart is beating fast," she reported, and I wasn't surprised in the least. I was no less nervous than I'd been at my arrival. I didn't know what I was expected to do, what she wanted from me. I was going purely on instinct, which was obvious by the fact that my hand had been rubbing her side for the past twenty minutes and I only then realized it, and only hoped that I wouldn't do anything wrong.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
 _Honesty, Bastiaan said. Even I know she deserves honesty from me._  
  
Quietly, I whispered, "I'm afraid."  
  
She sat up, at that, taking my hand in both of hers. "Of what?"  
  
I looked in her eyes, letting my emotions come to the surface, hoping she could read them and understand more than I could. "I don't know what to do. I keep thinking I'm going to do something wrong."  
  
Kevyn smiled softly, putting her hand against my cheek. I closed my eyes and leaned into the warmth. "Nikka, listen to me." Her words drifted over me and I smiled to myself as the warmth of her light Californian accent surrounded me. "I promise you, we're not going to do anything that you're not comfortable with. You do what feels right to you. I'll let you know if you ever do something I don't like, all right? Trust me," she said, in a voice so steady and so open that I could do nothing less.  
  
I sighed softly, and pulled her close again. She rested her head against my shoulder, and I brought my hand up from her shoulder to stroke her short hair, the way she cuddled in deeper to my side telling me I was doing something she liked. I liked it too.  
  
"Kevyn?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Have you really been flirting with me since we met?"  
  
She laughed. "Guilty as charged, I'm afraid."  
  
"Why?"  
  
I felt her hand on my stomach, and she patted gently. "Because I like you, Nikka. I've been attracted to you since I first saw you," she said, and I found myself smiling. "You are a wonderful person, and don't let anybody tell you different."  
  
"I don't know if I'd go that far."  
  
"I would. And I'd defend that to anyone who asked, as well." I didn't doubt that for a second, and kissed her forehead.  
  
"It's late," I sighed. "I've got to go, honey." When I heard my own voice say the word, I blushed, and Kevyn chuckled softly.  
  
"You keep turning red like this and I'm going to have to change your name from Nikka to Tomato," she teased, gently kissing the tip of my nose. "Whatever you're comfortable with, remember? Whether it's conscious or not."  
  
I nodded, taking that in mind, and pressed my lips against hers lightly. She returned the kiss carefully, smiling warmly as we pulled away.  
  
"Come on. I'll walk you to your truck."  
  
I shook my head, and took her by the hand, walking her down the hall.  
  
She raised an eyebrow at me. "What's this?" I took her into her room, and lead her to the bed, telling her to get changed and climb in. She glanced at me as she took her pajamas, going to the bathroom to change, deciding it was best not to tease me now, though there were definitely plenty of opportunities, and I was grateful to her for it.  
  
Kevyn came back a few minutes later, wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top, tossing her dirty clothes in her closet. She walked over to me, kissing my shoulder, and climbed into bed, going to pull up the covers, but I stopped her. Moving the blankets myself, I pulled them over her, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, as I'd been thinking of doing for days.  
  
She smiled when she realized what I was doing. "Good night, Nikka." She kissed the back of my hand before I stood back up. "Sweet dreams."  
  
I grinned, happily, squeezing her hand. "You too. Sleep well. I'll call you tomorrow," I promised, and turned out the light as I left the room, closing the door softly behind me, floating to my truck.  
  



	2. Part Two

Chapter Eight

 

By the time I walked through the door it was nearly eleven o'clock, and I was startled to find my parents sitting in the living room, apparently waiting up for me. Taking a look at the blank expressions on their faces, I took it that this was not a good thing. Something told me I wasn't going to like whatever was going on.

"It's late," said my father, and I sat down in the recliner chair across from the sofa.

I sighed. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Where were you?" 

"I needed to go talk to Kevyn. She was upset about something," was all I told them, trying not to go into any detail, and also trying hard to hide the grin that wanted to break out at the thought of her. Damn. That wouldn't look good when I was attempting to look appropriately regretful.

"You've been missing a lot of time here on the ranch. A lot of meals."

I frowned slightly. "I know… but, she's new around here. I've just been showing her around, trying to be a friend." Yeah, that was good. This wasn't so bad, after all.

"We think you've been spending too much time with her." 

"What?"

My father took a deep breath, folding his hands into a steeple, placing the tips of his fingers at the bridge of his nose, a posture I noticed Bastiaan copied often when he was thinking hard about what to say. That did not bode well.

His deep verdant gaze found mine. "I ran into her father, Patrick, at the feed store last week, buying food for their dogs. We talked for a while. Kevyn happened to come up in the conversation." I tried not to look as on edge as that statement made me feel. "He mentioned some interesting things. They lived in San Francisco, which is apparently a more… liberal city in California. He said she'd had some trouble with a few of her… girlfriends, or whatever they're called, and hoped Montana would be good for her, too. 'Help her meet nicer people', he said. Kevyn is a lesbian." My father spat out the word as though it tasted horrible, and it was then that I realized with a sinking sensation in my heart that my own father, the man who raised me to be understanding and tolerant of others, the man I'd looked up to for my entire life, was prejudiced. 

Forcing myself not to react, I still tried to look casual. "Okay…"

"You being with someone… like that… so often… We're afraid it's not good for you, Annika." Oh god, this came from my mother. I had told Bastiaan just the week before that they came from a different school of thought, and that was true, but oh, it hurt so much when I discovered I was right. I had to warn my brother that it was best not to tell them he was gay. It wouldn't go over well. We would both have to live our lives in secret, never being able to tell our parents about our triumphs and our sadness; the people who had brought us into the world would never truly understand us.

I was suddenly very, very sad. 

I looked at my parents as though I had never seen them before.

"You should find more people your age," my mother was still speaking, and I tried hard to concentrate on her words. "It's good that you're making friends, but you have to be careful, AJ. Go out with Stacey, let her introduce you to some of her friends; I'm sure she wouldn't mind that. And you should meet her boyfriend. I'm sure Bastiaan knows some nice kids from school. We'll invite them over for dinner some night, and have them bring some people they know. Would you like that?"

Busy fighting back tears and nausea, I could only nod. If you only knew, I thought. I knew they wanted me to meet more people because they were worried about Kevyn 'turning' me into a lesbian by being around her so much. Oh, if they knew the truth…

 _If they knew the truth, I somehow don't think their words would still be this calm._ I sighed. If this was what Bastiaan had lived with for however many years, this fear, this knowledge, he was far stronger than I was. 

My dad smiled thinly. "Good. We'll have them over Friday night, then."

I stood on shaking legs. "Can I go to bed now? I'm tired."

"One more thing," continued my father. "I think it might be a good idea if you stayed away from Kevyn for a while. A week, maybe. That will give you a chance to meet some other people."

"I… you can't do that! She's my friend."

"AJ…"

I refused to listen. "No. She needs a friend. She doesn't know anyone here, her mom is sick…" I clenched my jaw. "I won't leave her alone."

My parents exchanged glances which I couldn't quite decipher.

After a long, tense minute, my dad got to his feet. His body language told me he was going to tell me something, and there would be no negotiating. This was final. He gave the impression that he was the boss, and I would listen and obey, because he said so. I hated it when he got like that, which wasn't very often.

"You will not see her before the dinner on Friday night," he stated, leaving no room for discussion.

"But…"

My mother shook her head. "No, AJ. Trust us on this. It's for your own good, sweetheart. We're just doing what's best."

I felt my nostrils flare as I began losing the battle with my emotions, and tears brimmed in my eyes. "Fine," I breathed, trying hard not to growl, knowing that would only get me into trouble for being disrespectful. "Can I go now?"

Justin nodded. "Yes. We'll see you in the morning."

I ran up the stairs, but never made it to my room. I knew it was late, but I had to see Bastiaan. There was no way I'd be able to talk, not right away, but if I went to my room I was afraid I'd break something. I had so much anger, so much pain, so much sadness, so much feeling, I wasn't sure what I'd do. Not bothering to knock, I opened the door, and went to his bedside.

"Bastiaan," I choked.

He sat up, slowly, rubbing at his eyes. "AJ? What's wrong?"

I fell into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder. He put his arms around me, moving so I could curl up beside him, and held me securely.

"What's going on, Annika?" he asked, softly, after the flow had ebbed a bit.

I was hiccupping so much I didn't think I'd be able to say anything, but I tried. "Mom and… Dad. They said… they said I can't see Kevyn. Patrick told Dad and… he doesn't… they don't think it's good. Oh, Bastiaan... we can't tell them, we can't ever tell. I can't see her until Friday night. They want me to… meet more people." I wasn't making sense, but I kept talking. "They think it's for my own good. But it's not. She is. And I want to be with her but they won't, they won't let me. We can't ever tell."

My brother rubbed my back, sighing gently. "I'm sorry, Annika. I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"I thought they were acting strangely tonight, but I didn't think anything of it. I should have known something was up when I didn't hear them go to bed before I did."

I shook my head. "You didn't know. This is how you feel all the time, isn't it?"

"If I think I know how you're feeling, then yes."

"I can't do it. I can't."

"What do you mean?"

I looked at him, carefully. "I'm so mad, Bastiaan. Why are they doing this? How can they think like that? And it hurts so much… You were right, I told Kevyn the truth, and we talked. She kissed me again. I kissed her. I was so happy tonight, and I can't even tell mom or dad," I said, heavily. "We've always been able to share everything with them, but tonight they made it sound like it was so disgusting, so horrible…"

"Like you said, Annika, they come from a different generation, a different way of thinking. They don't understand. And what people don't understand, they fear. Fear can give way to anger," he explained. "I know it hurts. It's very hard not to tell them everything, because we want them to be as happy as we are." I nodded. "But sometimes that doesn't always work. That's why I started telling them Bobby was a girl a few months ago. Just change a few pronouns and they never know."

I climbed under the covers with him, something I hadn't done since I'd had bad dreams in my childhood. He just moved over so I could share the pillow.

"I don't want to lie to them, Bastiaan. I don't want to have to lie about who I am and what makes me smile."

"I know."

"But I have to."

He nodded, and said again, "Yes. I know."

I rubbed my eyes as they began to ache with dried tears. "I hate this. How can I be so happy about one thing and then so angry about another? I never thought I'd be this mad at mom and dad, Bastiaan."

"You're not mad at them," he corrected, "you're mad at how they're acting. It might be all they know, AJ. They were probably raised to believe this way."

"But dad always taught us to be so open-minded. He's one of the funniest and most easy-going people I know." Granted, I didn't know many people, but Bastiaan agreed.

"I'd say the same thing about him," my brother stated. "And if you didn't know Kevyn, he might not have cared at all what Patrick told him. It can be different when it affects his daughter, or he is afraid it will."

Having said enough on this subject for my stomach to handle for one night, we fell into silence for a while, as I tried to steady my breathing and get a grip on my emotions. Much of what Bastiaan said made sense, and gave me a lot to think about.

"What does GLBT stand for?" I asked, suddenly remembering the letters that Kevyn had mentioned.

"Gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender," elaborated my sibling, easily. I was quiet again, and he kissed my forehead, biting back a large yawn. "Get some sleep, AJ. No, you can stay here," he said, when I made a move to get up, "you're okay. If you want to talk any more, just wake me up, all right?"

I nodded, and put my head against his arm as I took a deep breath. 

It took me a long time to fall asleep.

* * * * *

Breakfast was difficult, and I thought it would never end. I refused to say a single word, determined to show my parents just how unfairly they were treating me. My brother said little, chatting with our folks as if he didn't know anything, but was only dimly aware of the tension at the table. My father kept looking at me sternly, as if to tell me he wasn't going back on the sentence. Mother, on the other hand, didn't look at much of anything besides her plate.

I cleared the table and went to the door to pull on my boots so I could go riding.

My dad stopped me. "No, AJ."

I looked up. He had to be joking. "I can't go riding?"

He shook his head.

"But, I'm just… I just want to see the mustangs. I swear that's all." It was raining off and on, but I figured they would still be at the Point, and I needed to get out of the house.

"No. You can spend the day in the house."

I stood quickly, angry. "I don't believe this. I'm being punished for making friends." With that, I stormed up to my room, not giving him a chance to respond. I turned on my stereo and tried to drown out my anger with music, singing along with Avril Lavigne and Alanis Morrisette. I needed kick-ass-and-take-names music. Those ladies were good for it.

That's probably why I didn't hear the phone ring, and didn't realize Bastiaan was knocking at the door until it swung open.

I turned down the volume enough to hear what he had to say. He pointed to the phone and mouthed, "Kevyn". I turned my stereo down some more and picked up the phone, waiting until I heard him hang up to speak.

"Hey."

Kevyn was cheerful, so apparently Bastiaan hadn't told her anything. "Hi there, beautiful. I just thought I'd call to see what you were up to."

"Nothing."

"Want to go riding?"

I leaned my forehead against the wall above my bed, before letting myself fall back against the pillows. "I can't," I sighed.

She paused. "What's wrong, Nikka?"

"My parents said I can't see you for a while."

"They know?"

"No. But your dad told my dad, and now they think it's not good that I hang around you so much," I told her. "At first they said a week, but then my dad said I can't see you before tomorrow night, and they have some dinner planned with a bunch of kids my age."

I heard a gentle sigh. "I'm sorry, Nikka. Usually my dad is very careful; he knows not to say anything. He probably just slipped. I'll talk to him."

I shrugged. "I just miss you."

"And I miss you," she echoed. "So you can't go out at all?"

"Nope. I already tried just going out to Mustang Point, and my dad said I couldn't. It's so horrible, Kevyn. How can they be so angry about something they don't even understand?"

She told me the same thing as Bastiaan, about how that was exactly why they were upset, because they didn't understand.

"My parents were always supportive, but it took them a while to accept that their daughter is a lesbian," she said. "Your parents are probably just worried." I wasn't so sure about that. They seemed angry to me. Not worried. Repulsed. "Most people know it's not an easy thing, to be different, and all parents want is for their children to be safe and happy. Something that makes them stand out has a tendency to hurt them, and that worries them, sometimes beyond a point of being rational."

I didn't think I understood all that, but it was another view, I supposed.

"So it wouldn't be a good idea for me to put this letter in your mailbox, huh?"

My shoulders sagged. "Probably not," I sighed. "I'm sorry they're being so difficult."

"Hey," she said, gently, "don't apologize. It's not your fault, Nikka. I understand."

"At least somebody does."

"Annika, don't be so hard on them, or yourself, please. Your parents are only trying to protect you. They think that if you hang around with me that you'll get hurt by who I am," that was ridiculous, "and it's not the first time I've had something like this happen. We'll talk on the phone, and get through this until we can see each other again, all right?"

She sounded so sure that everything would work out. "Okay."

A smile. "Good. Thank you. Oh, and let me tell you, thank you for last night."

Even I had to smile, now. "You're welcome."

"I still have your shirt, you know."

"Keep it," I chuckled. "I've got plenty more, believe me."

"Well, good, I didn't want to give it back. It smells like you."

I blinked. "It smells like me?"

"Yes. In fact, I'm wearing it now."

I grinned. Why did that make me feel so good?

Suddenly, my door swung open again, but this time, it wasn't Bastiaan. It was my father. He must have wondered why I'd suddenly turned down the volume on my stereo… but had he heard me talking? 

Oh, this was bad. My smile faded instantly.

"Who are you talking to?"

Kevyn fell quiet as she heard his voice.

I got to my feet slowly. What did I tell him? If I lied and he found out, he'd probably be even angrier with me.

"Kevyn."

His eyes narrowed. "Did you call her?"

If I told him that she'd called me, he'd probably never let me have a phone in my room again, and make me dial all my calls from the phone in the kitchen.

I nodded. "Yeah. I called her."

"Nikka!" came from the other end of the line, but I didn't respond.

"Hang up."

I swallowed. "I've got to go," I told Kevyn, and hit the button that turned the phone off, replacing it on its base. My father and I stared at each other for a while, neither of us moving.

Finally, he shook his head. "We're doing what is best for you, Annika. Why can't you just listen? I said no contact with that girl until after tomorrow night."

I frowned. "No, you said I couldn't see her. I'm not. We were just talking on the phone."

"Don't get technical with me, Annika."

"You set the rules."

My father set his jaw. "Watch your tone, young lady."

I looked down.

I could smell his aftershave as he came closer, reaching around me to pull the phone cord out of the wall, wrapping it around the phone and walking towards the door. I was too stunned by his actions to say a word.

"You will ask permission if you need to make a phone call, and call from the kitchen phone." Damn, I'd told the truth and I still got this treatment. "I don't like doing this to you, AJ, but… it's obvious that this girl isn't good for you. You're already breaking rules." Whether or not I had truly broken any rules was a gray area that I decided not to bring up.

Suddenly, my mother was there, too, and he gave her the phone. "What is it about her that has you disobeying us, AJ? Has she…" I could tell she was having trouble forming the words, "done anything to you? Has she made you do anything to her? Anything at all, baby? You can tell us if she has, we'll take care of it."

My stomach turned as I realized what my mother was referring to. My God, she was asking me if Kevyn had molested me, touched me in a way I didn't want her to… Well, I could answer that one easily and honestly, with a single word, even.

"No. She would never hurt me," I added, feeling sick. How could the people in front of me making these implications be my parents?

"Are you sure? You know, sometimes these people, they…"

I couldn't hear anymore. "No! Kevyn would never hurt me. I called her on the phone to let her know that I wouldn't be able to see her for the next few days, all right? You want me to meet new people, and then I get in trouble when I do. You were perfectly happy with me hanging around with her before you found out she's a lesbian, and now, suddenly, she has some sort of disease and I can't be around her? What happened to not judging people, letting God do that?" I snapped.

None of us were extremely religious, but we went to Easter and Christmas services at the local church, and my father's view had always been that it was God's place to judge. We humans just made friends where we could, with tolerance and respect.

So much for that.

"God won't judge them, AJ, they aren't of His kingdom. They have no place, they shouldn't be here," said my mother, as evenly as though she was telling me the weather. She truly believed that.

Now I knew I was going to throw up. 

"I'm going to go spend some time with Hamlet," I said, abruptly, and walked past them. I couldn't take any more of that. I ran into the bathroom on my way downstairs and closed the door behind me, bracing my hands on the sink, hanging my head as I fought to keep my breakfast in my stomach. My world was spinning around me and my parents were blurring more and more and I had no idea how to stop it.

 

Chapter Nine

 

I spent the next day and a half in my room. Sometimes I brought Hamlet up with me, sometimes Rhett or one of the dogs, and sometimes I was just by myself. I stared at the ceiling, rambling to my pets or my brother, who came in once and then left me to sulk.

"They hate me, Hamlet," I told the bird, once; some time Thursday night, I believe. "They're telling me all these things, and they don't even realize that they're saying they hate me."

"Pretty Hamlet."

"Yes, I know. But that doesn't help me any. Much as I would like to just take you and your beautiful feathers on the road, I don't think it would do any good about my current situation, you know?" He walked across my bed carefully, and began tugging on a thread on my shirt. "Hey, quit that." I gently tapped his beak, and he blinked at me, shaking his head.

"Good bird."

I scratched the back of his neck, and he fluffed up, kissing my wrist. Stepping up on my thigh, he walked up my torso until he stood on my chest, and I raised an eyebrow at him as he tilted his head to look at me. 

"Can I help you with something, Hamlet?"

He kissed my nose.

"You're a silly bird."

Seeing that my mood wasn't improving, he bent his head to scratch under his wing, and then straightened back up. Tasting the skin on my cheek, he began preening my hair, and meowed.

I laughed in spite of myself. "Thanks, Hamlet. You knew I needed that, didn't you?" I took him back to his cage a few minutes later, managing to avoid seeing either of my parents on the way. Patting Rhett, who was sprawled out on the couch in the perfect position to make faces at Hamlet, I returned to my room and finished a few drawings. Then came a silent dinner, and I listened to music before falling asleep, greatly missing what had become my nightly conversations with Kevyn.

Stacey arrived at six o'clock on Friday night, as my parents had dictated, with her boyfriend in tow. He had brought two of his football buddies, it seemed, and Stacey said that the friend she had invited along would be coming in a few minutes. The next knock on the door was Bobby, the 'friend' Bastiaan had claimed to want to introduce me to, and while I was glad they would get to spend some time together, I was a little aggravated that I didn't get to see Kevyn. 

Bastiaan introduced him as Robert.

Tad, Stacey's boyfriend, was nice. He treated Stacey kindly, as far as I could tell, and was quite respectful, though his friends - Buck and Henry, as it were - left much to be desired. They were polite with my parents, but sent leers in my and Stacey's direction every chance they got. At any given time, one of them was undressing me with his eyes, and the other was smiling obnoxiously. I rolled my eyes. Great. This was going to be a long night.

I answered the next knock at six-thirty, and my jaw dropped. There, wearing boot-cut black jeans with a light blue shirt, tucked-in, and a tan jacket, was my girlfriend.

"Kevyn? What are you doing here?" I pulled the door half-shut, afraid my parents would see her and kick her out or something.

Stacey came up beside me and put her hand on my arm. "I invited her, sweet cheeks. AJ, meet Kevyn. Kevyn, this is my best friend, AJ." I hugged her tightly, whispering a fierce "thank you", and her eyes were twinkling as she pulled back.

I smiled brightly at the redhead, and opened the door all the way to let her in. I wanted nothing more than to throw my arms around her and keep her right next to me for the whole evening, but I saw my parents coming from the kitchen, and tensed.

"Justin, Susan, this is my friend, Kevyn." Stacey didn't have time to turn the introductions around before my mother took a step back. I saw the hurt flash across Kevyn's eyes, which seemed to be mostly gold tonight as they blended with her outfit, and I winced. 

"It's nice to meet you," said Kevyn, softly, offering her hand, hiding her pain well. Neither of my parents took it, so she dropped it back to her side after a moment. Every one else watched the exchanged with interest, Buck and Henry whispering to themselves. They were discussing football plays, I was sure, since that seemed to be about the only words in their vocabulary. Well, football issues and idiotic one-liners that I believe were meant to be followed by something other than laughter… but so far, that was the only response I could come up with.

My mom went back into the kitchen to finish setting the table, my dad went to clean the den, Bastiaan and Bobby were chatting politely on the couch, and I was left with the rest of my company.

Henry sniggered, his brown crop of hair falling into his eyes. "Who's the dyke?" he asked, and Buck elbowed him, sharing in the joke. I growled, making a move towards them, but Kevyn shot me a look that could not be misread: don't. I didn't understand. They were being rude and mean, and to her… how did she expect me to let that go?

Stacey whispered something into Tad's ear, and he nodded. Grabbing his friends by the backs of their thick necks, he led them aside, speaking lowly. My friend came up and put an arm around my shoulders, casually telling me, "It wouldn't look good if you did something to defend Kevyn. Tad's taking care of it. Be careful, sweetie."

I nodded, and she went to meet her boyfriend, kissing him gently in thanks for his help. Henry and Buck looked properly chastised, and though I was tempted to throw an evil glare in their direction, Kevyn walked up beside me and mentioned in a voice that carried to the other guests that we had a nice house.

I smiled, realizing what she was doing. "Thank you. How about I give you all a tour?" I offered, and everyone nodded. Stacey, of course, knew our house inside and out, but she went along, hand-in-hand with Tad, keeping an eye on Tweedle-Dumb and Tweedle-Dumber while giving Kevyn a chance to walk up front with me. We walked close together, but made sure to keep an appropriate distance between us.

The inside of the house came first, and I told my dad we were going outside so I could show them the horses and such, and he agreed, sending Bastiaan and Bobby along. They took up the rear, and my little group of tourists followed along dutifully. It didn't take long, though Tad seemed interested by the cattle, and Henry and Buck thought it necessary to ask about what was on the rest of our land. I told them we had part of Spring Creek running through the property, some vegetation, and wild mustangs. I think I confused them on the "vegetation" part, because then they said they thought Stacey's mom was the only vet, and with a sigh, I led everyone back into the house for dinner.

My mother instructed everyone on where to sit. My father was at the head, with Bastiaan on one side and me on the other. Bobby sat next to my brother, then Tad and Stacey. My mother sat beside me, then came Henry and Buck and, finally, at the opposite end of the table from my father, sat Kevyn. She was about as far away from me as she could be, and I noticed. I was sure that was deliberate. 

We kept a silent conversation going throughout dinner, Kevyn and I. I'd glance at her if Stacey made an amusing comment, and saw her eyes light up a bit to tell me she was laughing, since it had quickly been discovered that a smile in my direction, even because of laughter, caused my parents to exchange a wary glance. My father kept shooting her glances of his own, and our eyes would meet shortly after so I could convey my apologies. She raised an eyebrow at me each time, and I knew she didn't want me to feel bad, but I couldn't help it. Here she was, sitting in my home, sharing a meal, and feeling unwanted. I felt terrible.

Kevyn contributed to conversation where she could, Stacey doing her best to keep her involved as much as possible, asking questions about California and college. Either my mom or dad would deftly change the subject after a few minutes, to something like the local football team or whether Stacey would be following in her mother's footsteps and become a veterinarian… things which had nothing to do with Kevyn. She knew a bit about football, and tried to put in a few of her own comments, but my dad looked to Henry pointedly and asked how it was looking for the local high school team to take the playoffs.

"That was wonderful, honey," said my father, when we had all finished eating, and murmurs of the same sort were heard from around the table, everyone complimenting my mother on her culinary skills. She smiled with the praise, and Bastiaan and I helped clear the table quickly, going back to our guests as soon as we were given the okay.

"I'm sorry," I mouthed to Kevyn, and she just gave me a small smile. We all chatted for a little while, before dad came into the living room and said it was getting late, and everyone took that as their cue to leave. He cast a disapproving look in my direction when he saw that I was sitting beside Kevyn, and I just met his gaze until he walked back into the den with my mother.

Stacey and Tad said their goodbyes first, Stacey giving me a strong hug before they left. I kissed her cheek and promised to call her the next day if I had the chance. Tad got a quick hug, too, and then they drug Henry and Buck out the door before either of them had an opportunity to come near me. Kevyn left, then, whispering quietly that she didn't want to be seen as the last to leave, and turned before I could draw her to me. That was probably for the best. Bobby left not long after, giving me a hug, and I patted his back, glad he was able to see the ranch as he'd wanted.

"I'm going to bed," I called, walking up the stairs just behind Bastiaan, after seeing Bobby to his car, but my dad called me back. I sighed. Bastiaan sent me a smile of encouragement before retreating to his room. I turned and walked into the kitchen, sinking into a chair when it was motioned that I should do so.

"See, now that wasn't so bad, was it? You got to meet some nice people," said my mother, and I shrugged.

"Yeah, it was fine." The only person I'd really gotten to "meet" that would come close to qualifying as nice was Tad, but I wasn't going to tell them that.

My dad shook his head. "I don't see why you had to make such a big deal out of this, AJ."

I looked at him, easily. "You didn't know Kevyn was coming, did you?"

"Of course not." 

"And she wasn't so bad, now was she?" I mocked.

My mother frowned at me. "AJ," she scolded, and I mumbled an apology.

"The only reason we let her stay was because she was a guest of Stacey's," came the cold response from my father. "You weren't supposed to be around her influence tonight, but you were. You won't have any contact with her until next weekend."

I stood, quickly. "That's not fair! It's not like I planned for her to come over. Stacey invited her, not me. You said I'd only have to stay away until tomorrow," I reminded, anger lacing my voice. 

My dad also got to his feet, towering over me with his presence, though he was only slightly taller than me physically. "I changed my mind."

"You can't do that!" I cried. This wasn't fair at all!

Mom looked at me, pleading with me to calm down. "This is for your own good, AJ. Trust us. She's not good for you to be around." Was that all she could say? 'For my own good'? What the hell did she know about it?

"Don't give me that! There's no reason for you not to like her. You're just afraid of her. Just because she's a lesbian doesn't mean she's evil, or that she's going to hurt me or get me in trouble. She's my friend! You can invite whoever you want to come eat dinner, but you will never find someone who cares about me like she and Stacey do." I knew I had to throw Stacey in there, or they'd get really suspicious. "Henry and Buck were just thinking of the quickest way to get me into bed, in case you didn't notice, but you'd rather have me hang around them than Kevyn!"

"Annika Justine! That's enough," roared my dad, and I bit my lip. I hadn't meant to shout. "Go to your room. Your mother and I will let you know exactly what we're going to do in the morning."

With a heavy sigh, I trudged up to my room. This was very bad.

* * * * *

I awoke the next morning to a feeling of dread. What if my parents were going to tell me that I couldn't see Kevyn for a whole two weeks, or longer, because of what I'd said? I'd have to call and tell her it was all my fault; I'd talked back and got myself in a whole heap of trouble. She'd probably never want to talk to me again. And I would have no reason to blame her if she felt that way… I couldn't even keep myself out of trouble long enough to see her for a whole day.

I went down to breakfast with the depressing thought that not only had I angered my parents, but I'd angered Kevyn, and those few kisses would be all I'd ever get from her. My mother must have taken pity on my dejected expression, because as I was helping her with the omelets, she gently kissed the side of my head and whispered, "It'll be all right, AJ. You'll see."

Somehow, I managed to make it through breakfast, and waited as patiently as I could at the table afterward. My mom asked Bastiaan to clear the table, and he did, and then went up to his room, squeezing my shoulder gently as he walked past. My dad waited until my mom sat back down beside him to speak.

"It was my idea to ground you even longer. To keep you away from that girl at all costs. I don't like her, and I won't pretend otherwise," he said, and I hung my head. "However, your mother reminded me that you'll be eighteen soon, and very much an adult, and we would have little say over everything that you do, much less who you choose to spend your time with.

"I'll keep warning you against her, because what she does is unnatural and wrong," I felt my heart break as I knew for sure that my father would never be made happy by my own happiness, "but I will not forbid you from seeing her. Your place is outside of these walls, AJ, and once you are on the land, I can't watch your every move. Keeping you from that girl would mean keeping you from the horses and the land, your life."

I gave my mom an extremely grateful look for all the convincing I was sure she'd had to do to get my father to believe what he was telling me.

"You won't neglect this family," he was saying, and I faced him again. "Get permission if you're going to skip meals, and call if you're going to be late. You can see her, but she's not welcome in my home; do not bring her here."

I nodded. "Okay."

He closed his eyes briefly. "That's it."

"Can… can I have my phone back now?" I ventured, carefully, and he nodded, rising from his chair to retrieve it. I practically leapt over the table and gave my mom a strong hug.

"Thank you for talking to him," I murmured, and she returned the embrace.

"I want to see you happy, sweetheart. Just promise me you'll be careful…"

I promised. I knew she had nothing to worry about, but it seemed to make her feel better, so I promised. My dad came in with my phone, then, and I thanked him too as I took it from his hand. He said he only wanted me to be safe, but didn't offer an embrace; honestly, I don't think I expected one.

I turned and went to my room, reconnecting my phone and quickly dialing Kevyn's number to tell her the good news, and to see what she was doing in, oh… five minutes.

I was surprised when Diane answered.

"Hi, Diane… how are you feeling?"

"It's a good day, AJ. Thank you for asking. Here's Kevyn, dear," she said, calling for her daughter and giving her the phone.

"Hey, you. I didn't think I'd be hearing from you today."

I smiled. "Me neither. But my dad said he's not going to do anything to keep me from seeing you," I told her, and she was as excited as I'd hoped.

"Really?" I affirmed it. "That's great, Nikka!"

"Want to go riding?"

She was quiet for a second. "I do, baby, it's just… Mom doesn't have very many good days any more. I told her I'd spend the day inside with her."

"No problem. That sounds good. You two have fun," I grinned, feeling quite thrilled by the pet name she'd let slip.

I heard Diane's voice in the background, and then Kevyn asked, "Why don't you come join us, Nikka? I think mom just wants somebody else to beat in Scrabble, but I wouldn't mind seeing you myself."

Was I going to give up a chance to see her? Not on your life! Yes, I missed being outside, and even when it was raining I loved the outdoors, and I had been hoping to take Shannon out to Mustang Point and spend some time out there… but if Kevyn told me she was spending time in a submarine where we wouldn't see the surface for days on end, I'd figure out if I'd need to learn how to swim first, and join her in a heartbeat.

"That'd be great. If you're sure I won't intrude, Kevyn." She assured me that I wouldn't. Her dad was out talking with an aspiring artist about how to market his work, so it would be a day for just us girls. "All right. I'll be over in just a few minutes then." 

"See you soon, baby."

I told my mom that I was going to see Kevyn and spend time with her mom, so I wasn't sure when I'd be back, but probably not before lunch. She told me to call if I was going to miss dinner, too, and I said I would, rushing out the door.

Today is going to be a good day, I thought, as I drove down the road, happily singing along with the radio. Then, I swallowed. Scrabble?

 

Chapter Ten

 

Kevyn greeted me at my truck; actually, she was waiting out front when I pulled up. I had scarcely put my foot out the door when she ran into my arms. I smiled and pulled her close, managing to get out of my truck with her still wrapped around me.

I chuckled against her, and kissed the top of her head. "I missed you too, honey, but I can't walk."

"Complaining?" She laughed, and kissed my cheek.

"Not at all," I said, quickly. "I'd stand here all day with you, but I thought I was coming over to see your mom, too." Finally, she stepped away, taking my hand securely and walking me towards the house. It appeared that she was going to keep hold of me all day, in one way or another. Good. That sounded like a wonderful idea to me.

Diane was sitting in a chair leaning against a few pillows, and did seem to be having a better day than the first time we'd met.

"Morning, AJ," she greeted, and I smiled, taking my hat off as I walked into the house.

"Good morning, Diane," I replied, politely. Seeing all the games stacked on the coffee table near Diane's chair, I felt my throat go dry. Scrabble, Boggle, Balderdash, Pictionary… they all involved reading… a lot of reading, for some of them. The only ones I saw that I could possibly get away with playing were Chinese Checkers, Dominoes, and what seemed to be a matching game with pictures. Anything else and my dyslexia stood to get in the way. I could read some, but if I tried for a long time it gave me a headache, and games where you had to make words, such as in Scrabble, had a tendency to truly stress me out. I'd think of a word, but when I put down the letters, they'd never turn out in the right order.

A tug on my hand brought me down on the couch beside Kevyn, and when I realized we were still holding hands, I had to remind myself that her parents knew about us. I think I had a built-in panic button or something. It was almost an instinct for me, to worry about anyone seeing Kevyn and I being affectionate or acting like a couple.

I blinked. A couple? I grinned. Yeah, works for me.

"What would you like to play first?" 

I smiled as easily as possible and requested Chinese Checkers. We played two rounds of that, both of which I won, and then moved on to Dominoes at Kevyn's vote. Each of us won a play of that, and then it was Diane's turn to choose. 

I could have kissed that woman when she looked to Kevyn and said, "Why don't you go put a movie in, sweetheart? That way we can all relax for a bit." Kevyn agreed, and led me over to the entertainment center on the other side of the room, calling out titles until Diane just told us to pick one ourselves. We decided on Sister Act, and made sure Diane was settled and comfortable on the sofa. Kevyn got another blanket from a closet in the hall, and I found my way around the kitchen well enough to fill a glass of water. When we were assured that she had everything she needed, Kevyn pressed the play button on the remote.

The best position to see the television was from the couch, and, since Diane was resting there, I decided to take the next best seat. Kevyn had brought some extra pillows along with the blanket for her mom, so I fluffed a few under my head and stretched out on the floor in front of the sofa. The small redhead wasted no time in claiming a spot right next to me, head on my shoulder and hand in mine, a position we kept throughout the movie.

I've always been rather fond of movies; as are most people, but I didn't really have the alternative option of reading. My choices of entertainment were the radio or the T.V., basically. I'd never been to a play, though theater had always sounded interesting. As I was normally outside as much as possible, I turned to nature to keep me occupied, and the animals were certainly a source of amusement. Rabbits and squirrels were fine characters for a comedy, horses were good for drama if there was an argument in the herd, and a fierce wind could kick up an amazing dust devil for the perfect thrill. 

Lying there with Kevyn, however, I enjoyed every moment. I knew in a sudden instant that no matter what we were doing, whether we were inside watching T.V, outside on horseback, or just going for a walk, as long as it was 'we', I couldn't think of anything or anywhere better.

I blinked, no longer seeing the movie that was close to its end. What was this I was feeling? Why did I suddenly have a one-track mind, devoted wholly to Kevyn? I gathered that we were together now, and I knew that certain things were expected of me, being in a relationship and all. But I'd never been in a relationship before… what if I did something wrong? What if I didn't know what to do? Kevyn told me that we'd follow my pace, doing whatever I was comfortable with, but what was I comfortable with? I didn't have the slightest clue where to begin. Looks like I'd have a lot to talk about with my brother. 

Kevyn's hand moved across my stomach, patting gently. I guess my emotions had come to the surface enough for her to notice my tension.

"You okay?" she asked, quietly. 

"Sure," I said, forcing a small smile to the front and thoughts to the back.

There was that slight eyebrow raise again. "Uh-huh." She sounded anything but convinced, so I tried donning a more honest grin. No change in her expression, but she did settle back against my shoulder, absently rubbing my side through my shirt.

Diane's voice interrupted any attempt at an explanation I may have offered. "Kevyn, I think I'm going to head back to bed and get some rest, dear. AJ is welcome to stay as long as she likes." Kevyn was up in a flash and helping her mother to her feet. I followed suit, and we led her down the hall carefully, the redhead spending a good ten minutes fussing over her once she was lying in bed, before Diane promised she was only a little tired and urged Kevyn not to leave me standing in the doorway, as it was.

Kevyn walked over to me and led me back out into the living room, giving me a sheepish grin as she apologized. "I didn't forget about you, honest," she promised, "I just get a little protective, and…"

I held up my hand, stopping her from apologizing any further. "It's okay, Kevyn. Don't worry so much." I smiled gently, telling her I hadn't felt neglected in any way, and that I would never expect her to put me before her mother.

She tilted her head at me. "Really?"

"Of course." A smile spread across her face and she placed a brief kiss on my lips, resting her hands on my shoulders to balance herself as she stood on her tiptoes, before pulling me into a warm hug. I was a little startled, but returned the embrace tightly. Sometimes I just didn't understand her, I decided, but as long as whatever I'd done or said made her happy, then that was all right.

"Hey, you didn't have any plans for today, are you sure?" she asked, and I threaded my fingers through hers as we sat back on the couch.

I shook my head. "I should probably call Stacey, but other than that, not a thing."

Reaching across my lap, she retrieved the phone from the coffee table where it was setting and handed it to me. "Call."

"Oh, I can wait until I get home."

The phone was pressed into my hand with a half-grin. "Nikka, call Stacey. And then, if you want, call your parents and ask if you can skip dinner tonight. If everything goes the way I hope, you won't be back until late." My eyes widened, and she laughed, patting my knee comfortingly. "Take a deep breath, baby. I want to take you out to dinner. I promise that's all."

"Oh." I smiled easily, and dialed Stacey's number by heart.

"Hello?"

"Hey, muffin."

My friend chuckled. "AJ, what are you doing, honey? How's it going? Are you off restriction now?"

I laughed. "Well, considering that I'm sitting beside Kevyn at her house right this second…"

"Good! That's great, doll."

"Thanks… for all your help, Stacey. I really appreciate it."

"Aw, you know nothing's too much for you, sweet cheeks. You just take care of that girl and make my work worthwhile, hm?"

I grinned, and gently squeezed Kevyn's hand. "Promise. Well, I just wanted to call and say thanks. I'll call you in the next couple days, all right, cupcake?"

Stacey seemed pleased with that offer. "Sure thing, darling. Have fun." Her tone was deep and suggestive, but before I could comment, she hung up. I rolled my eyes, and then dialed my parents to tell them I wouldn't be home until late. Luckily, mom answered the phone and said that was fine, and for me to be careful, though I could hear dad grumbling in the background.

When I hung up again, and gave the phone back to Kevyn, she raised an eyebrow at me. "Cupcake?"

I laughed, and then gentled it when I realized she was indeed a little jealous. 

"I've known Stacey for as long as I can remember," I explained, "and we've always had this nickname thing. Muffin, cupcake, sweet cheeks, on and on. It's all in fun," I assured her, and Kevyn took this with a small smile. Seeing that she was still mulling it over, I leaned towards her and kissed the crown of her head, feeling her move closer to me. I pulled back and she was smiling brightly now, emerald eyes shining.

"Stacey's my best friend," I said, "as close to me as Bastiaan. But nothing else."

Kevyn nodded, and settled against me. "I know, I don't even have a reason for thinking that. From what you told me, you've never had a girlfriend before, so it's ridiculous for me to worry. But I can't help it," she admitted, patting my knee again, this time more for her comfort than mine, I think. "You're just so damn sexy it's hard to believe no other woman ever snatched you up."

I debated with myself for a moment, before making the decision not to tell her that no man had, either, and simply said, "No, just you."

Again, I must have said something right, because she kissed my cheek.

"I thought you wanted to spend the day with your mother," I said quietly, after silence had fallen for a few minutes, and she sighed.

"When she gets fatigued like that, she sleeps for a long time. And I'll make sure dad is home before we go anywhere, just in case she wakes up and needs something, but I'd bet she'll sleep for the next fifteen hours or so."

I tried not to let my surprise show.

Either I didn't hide it very well, or Kevyn already knew. "Fighting takes a lot out of her. A good day is if she can be up and around for more than two or three hours. She hasn't had a lot of those lately, and sometimes I just wonder if it'll be the last time… She wants to be strong for me and dad, I know," her voice trembled, "and I want to be strong enough to let her go. But I can't. I just… can't…" 

I pulled her tight against me when the first tear fell, and she wrapped her arms around my waist, burying her head in my shoulder as if I could hide her from the painful thought of losing her mother that would, at some time, become reality. I wished I could do that, I didn't want her to be sad; I didn't want her to hurt. I kissed the top of her head, trying to soothe her. If there were any way for me to take away the hurt, I would. But I knew I couldn't, all I could offer was my help and a place to turn if she ever needed it; so that's what I did, over and over again.

"All right, honey, it's all right," I murmured, rubbing her back as she trembled in my arms. "Hey, you said she was a teacher, right?" I felt her nod. "She's done a lot of good, then, for a lot of kids. Teachers are special. And you can enjoy the time you have with her now… It doesn't have to be about losing her, Kevyn, just being glad for the times you've had together. More of celebrating her life," I said, wondering if my attempt at calming her had made any sense at all.

She raised her head until shimmering gold-green eyes met mine, and a slow smile found its way to her tear-stained face.

"You're amazing," she said, and the pure honesty in her voice made me blush. She tipped my chin back up with her finger and placed a soft kiss on my lips. "Thank you, Nikka."

I smiled, glad that something I said seemed to help her feel better, and asked her what she had in mind for the rest of the afternoon, until dinner. Her response was to put in another movie and curl up beside me on the couch. With our fingers intertwined and our bodies as familiar with each other's nearness as though we'd been together for years, the next few hours went by on a cloud of soft laughter and gentle words.

We munched on snack foods during the movie, which qualified as lunch, and when dinner time rolled around, she asked me where I wanted to go. I said I didn't mind, to which she laughed and suggested McDonald's. I agreed, and she laughed again.

"Baby, we're going to a nice dinner. What do you know that's around here?"

After some thought, I suggested an Olive Garden in the nearest town, and it was decided that's where we would eat. That was safe for me, I knew, because I ordered the same thing there every time and wouldn't have to struggle with a menu. Plus, it clearly checked as 'nice' according to Kevyn.

Coming to the conclusion that neither of us would change clothes, if only for the fact that would mean me returning home and possibly running into my father who might change his mind about letting me go out again, it seemed that the nice dinner in the nice restaurant was to be under a casual dress-code. That didn't seem to bother Kevyn's idea of the night out, and it was perfectly all right with me.

Patrick came home a few minutes later, greeting his daughter with a kiss on the cheek and sending a broad smile in my direction.

"Hello, AJ. Nice to see you again."

"Thank you," I replied, and Kevyn asked how his day had gone.

"It went well, sweetheart. Mr. Barnes, that's the man I went to see, looks like he has some good work. Sculptures, mainly, but with a little more developing his canvas skills could be just as good. I told him if I can make a few calls and get back to him next week, I should be able to line something up. Is your mother asleep?" We both nodded, and the man smiled softly. "I'm going to go check on her, then. I'll be right back, girls."

Kevyn turned to me as he made his way down the hall. "Maybe dad can get some good work out here, and the move will be relaxing for him, too. He worked a lot when we were in California; too much, I think."

I nodded, and kissed her forehead. "Hopefully Montana will be good for all of you," I said, with a gentle smile, and Kevyn agreed.

"I know it's already been wonderful for me."

She volunteered to drive to dinner, and we climbed into her car twenty minutes later. We spent the thirty mile drive singing along with the radio, although when I realized how beautiful her voice was, I subtly starting singing less and less and turning the radio down more and more, until it was almost solely her voice floating through the car.

She blushed, and playfully slapped my hand away from the knob, turning the volume back up. She refused to sing again, and when I apologized, for I thought perhaps I had truly embarrassed her, she squeezed my hand. I was surprised and, all right, a little pleased, that I had found something that would make her blush. 

I'll bet if I asked, she'd sing again, I thought. She is cute when her cheeks get red, and she sings beautifully. 

Arriving at the Olive Garden, we'd only been waiting in line for a few moments, when I heard Kevyn sigh. Without a word, she turned and walked away. We'd been talking idly about her life back in San Francisco, and she was telling me about her old house, and she just left. I panicked as I started after her, wondering what I'd said.

"Kevyn?"

She turned when I called, and, seeing the fear in my eyes, she gently rubbed my shoulder for a second; as long as she dared.

"I'm sorry, Nikka, looks like dinner is a no-go tonight."

I was confused. "Why? What happened?"

She nodded her head to something behind me, and I turned, rolling my eyes. Buck and Henry were heading towards us. Kevyn had apparently seen them in line and decided their presence wouldn't be conducive to our night out together.

"Hey, AJ," called Buck, "wait up." 

I took a deep breath. "What?"

"Come on, now," said Henry, the two approaching just before we reached Kevyn's car in the parking lot, "we just want to ask your friend something."

I had a response for them, but Kevyn put her hand on my arm lightly, stepping beside me, so I stayed quiet. She was telling me to let her handle the situation, and I would try, though I wasn't sure I could remain silent if they were rude to her again.

"What do you want?" Her tone was steady and controlled, as though nothing they could say would shake her. I hoped that was true, because I got a bad feeling from their tough stances and dark eyes.

"We know you're new 'round here, and just figured maybe we could show you around. What do you think?" questioned Henry, with fake sincerity, placing his hand on her cheek. I clenched my jaw as she turned her head away from his touch.

"No, thanks," was her reply. 

"Come on," chuckled Buck, "if it's about what we said last night… we didn't mean it, did we, Henry?" Henry shook his head in agreement, flashing a charming smile. "Just having a little fun, was all. No hard feelings, right? I mean, maybe we can help you out…"

I could think of nothing that Kevyn needed help with that required Buck and Henry… then it dawned on me what they must have meant, and my eyes narrowed. My hands were clenched, and I was about to step in, when Kevyn made her move.

Without warning, Kevyn stepped closer to Buck, so close that he would have only needed to take a deep breath for his chest to touch hers, and I wondered what she was thinking. Trailing a finger up his arm, she reached his shoulder just as her mouth came close to his ear, whispering loud enough for both me and Henry to hear, "Well, now… I don't know. That all depends."

Buck swallowed at her breath on his neck. So did I. Henry's eyes were as wide as his friend's, and I growled under my breath. I wanted to shove them both away from my girlfriend and beat them senseless, and then ask Kevyn what the hell she was thinking, because I wasn't sure I could figure it out. All I knew was that I didn't like it.

"O-on?" stammered Buck, all his bravado suddenly gone.

"Um…" gulped Henry.

He was closer to her as well, now.

"Tell me, boys," she purred, "do you practice safe sex?"

I felt a headache coming on. Trust her. She knows what she's doing, just trust her, I kept repeating to myself, shoving my hands deep in my pockets to keep from doing something the jocks would regret.

They nodded dumbly. Henry began fumbling around in his wallet, for a condom, I assumed, to prove it to her, as Buck leaned closer.

"Good." In the same fluid movement, she grabbed Henry's pinky finger and bent it back as far as she could until he was nearly on the ground, and kneed Buck right in his 'hard feelings', putting him in much the same position as his buddy. "Then go fuck yourselves. I'm not going to take any crap from assholes like you. Go lick your wounds and leave me alone."

"This isn't over, bitch," hissed Henry, cradling his left hand against his side as he dragged Buck to their truck, the two exchanging whimpers of pain.

Kevyn walked towards me, and put her hand on my arm, but when I didn't move, she dropped it. "Come on, baby," she said, softly, unlocking the door of her car and waiting patiently for me to join her. I did, slowly, and climbed into the passenger seat. She put the keys in the ignition but didn't start the car, and the silence was deafening. I'd always heard people use that phrase but didn't really understand what it meant. But it was quite accurate.

I didn't know what to say. I was guessing neither did Kevyn. I wasn't sure if I was mad at her for seemingly flirting with them, proud of her, or just plain scared. I'd never seen her so angry, and whether my adrenaline was pumping from sensing her own violence or from feeling that she was in danger, I didn't know.

Finally, I swallowed all of that and just asked, "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. I'm sorry about that, Nikka. You're mad at me." It wasn't a question, it was a statement, but I treated it as though she had expected an answer.

"No," I said, "I thought you were going to get hurt. I didn't know what you were doing. And I've never… you were really angry."

I felt her hand on mine, and I instantly turned my palm up so she could grasp my fingers. "I've dealt with people like Buck and Henry for a long time, baby. They never learn. And I knew they'd cause nothing but trouble for us tonight, that's why I tried to leave, but they'd already seen us. I'm sorry I worried you, but I can take care of myself, baby. I'm all right." 

"But…" I looked over at her, and frowned slightly. "The way you talked… I thought, you know, maybe you wanted…"

"Annika." Her eyes were deep and more gray than green, anxious for me to understand. "Nikka, listen to me. I can promise that you will never have to worry about that, all right? There will be no other woman when we're together, and never a man; men don't stand a chance. I had to get the upper hand with them, baby, that was the only way to deal with them.

"There is just you," she said, firmly, and I nodded. Her hand cupped my chin and now, in the privacy of the car, she leaned across the seat and kissed the corner of my mouth. I pulled her close and dropped my head to her shoulder, nuzzling the short red hair and soft neck, feeling her arms go around me. I kissed the skin I found there, and heard her gasp, and when she didn't pull away, I assumed it was a good thing. Perhaps my lips on her neck gave her the same warm feeling as it did me, not to mention the jump my heart made at her gasp.

She placed a gentle kiss on my temple and pulled away before I could try again, offering me a crooked grin. "Let's find somewhere for dinner, what do you say?" I agreed, and kissed her once more before releasing her hand so she could drive.

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Dinner ended up being McDonald's that night after all, which was fine with me, although I think Kevyn was a little disappointed that her initial plan had been ruined. We ate inside the restaurant, which meant we had little privacy and had to restrain our affections, a habit I found I didn't like to curb. I liked it better at Kevyn's house or out on the ranch, where we could hold hands and I could steal a quick kiss without worrying about other people. I wondered if she knew about the coffee shop where I had met Bobby. I'd have to take her there, definitely.

A few tables were occupied, and there were seven or eight people standing in line. I watched customers walk in and out with idle interest, wondering where they were all going. A man with two children walked out the door with three kids' meals, and I wondered if perhaps there was another child waiting at home, or maybe he wanted one for himself. The toys were amusing at times, although they were distributed on a rather sexist basis. When I was younger I often fought my brother for his toy car, because the only thing the employees would put in my Happy Meal was the doll, the toys 'designed' for the little girls. I wanted the car, damn it.

Kevyn lifted the bun of her cheeseburger, and raised an eyebrow. "I said no onions. I didn't mean no onions, no ketchup, and no pickles. I'm surprised they gave me any bread. I'll be right back," she said, and got up to take her sandwich up to the front counter. A woman came in through the back entrance, bare foot, just behind a man and three kids. I couldn't tell if they were together, but what caught my attention, besides the fact that neither the lady nor any of the kids wore shoes, was that she was drunk. Not fall-down drunk, but she was certainly a little toasted.

I shifted in my seat a little when I saw her approach Kevyn, the tall blonde starting a conversation of small talk with my girlfriend, eyeing her necklace appreciatively. It was a small charm of a Greek letter, which Kevyn had told me often stood for lesbianism, on a gold chain. It had been a joint gift from her parents; she had expressed an interest in the necklace one day after having seen it in a store, and they remembered, giving it to her as a graduation present. She said she rarely took it off.

The woman reached out and hefted the charm in her hand as Kevyn smiled uneasily.

In just five steps, I reached them, and stood behind the tiny redhead with all the protective aura I could fathom.

"Ready to go?" I asked, saying the first thing that came to my mind, shooting daggers at the intoxicated blonde, whose cloudy brown eyes stared at me.

Kevyn looked relieved to see me, and took the new sandwich they had made for her, stepping away from the stranger as she said, "Sure. Let's go."

"Nice to meet you," grinned the woman, and I put my hand on Kevyn's arm.

"Come on."

We didn't even bother to throw away the trash that was left at our table, we just walked directly to her car and drove off.

"Are you okay?" I asked, and Kevyn nodded.

"Thank you." She smiled. "My hero."

I managed not to blush, and simply returned the smile.

"Kevyn?"

She turned to me as we pulled onto her property. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry tonight didn't work out the way you planned."

The engine was turned off before she removed the keys, and faced me. "Nikka, did we spend the night together?" I nodded. Her smile was gentle, as was the kiss she placed on the edge of my jaw. "Then I loved it. Any time spent with you is wonderful, baby."

I couldn't help the smile that spread when I heard her say the same thing I'd been thinking earlier, and leaned across the seat to kiss her lips. I cupped her cheek with my hand as she often did with me, and then let my tongue sneak past my lips, as I had seen in the movies. Her reaction was not what I had expected, but more than I hoped for. She parted her lips and welcomed me easily, sliding her own tongue past to join in on a slow waltz that was softer than I had imagined, nothing like the battle for dominance that seemed to be shown on the screen. There was no roughness; nothing was quick or fierce, just slow, gentle, and tender. I followed her lead, then, softly exploring her mouth and sometimes teasing.

If I thought my heart had been pounding the first time she kissed me, now I was having trouble breathing.

She pulled back slowly, and I took a deep breath of cool air, smiling softly when I noticed that she was flushed, as well.

"Very nice," she hummed, and my grin widened at the praise.

I kissed her cheek, and then looked at my watch. "I should go," I said, reluctantly.

She reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear, a gesture I found I liked, and amended, "No, you shouldn't, but you have to," and kissed my nose, laughing when I made a funny face. "Go on, before your parents get worried, baby. I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I might spend a little time with my brother, but I'll be around tomorrow night, I'm sure."

I went to open the door, but she stopped me with one more kiss, and then said, "Oh, I almost forgot!" She pulled an envelope from the backseat and handed it to me. "This is that letter I was going to give you the other day. I hope it's not too late."

I smiled. "Of course not. Good night, honey." I refused to leave until she let me walk her into the house and tuck her into bed. At first she argued, telling me I needed to get home, but I crossed my arms and told her I wasn't going anywhere. Finally, she changed clothes and climbed under the covers. I kissed her forehead, and then the bridge of her nose, and at last her lips, whispering "Sweet dreams" as I closed her bedroom door.

The first stop I made after arriving home was my brother's room, with only a passing "I'm home" to my dad, who was in the den doing some paperwork. Bastiaan called for me as I knocked, and I handed him the letter as I closed the door behind me.

"What's up?" 

"Kevyn wrote another letter but couldn't give it to me until now," I explained, sitting cross-legged on his bed, pushing his knees up to make room.

He chuckled. "Well, help yourself, sis. All right, let's see what we've got," he said, clearing his throat and opening the envelope. He grinned at me right away, and I raised an eyebrow at him. "She wrote "Nikka" on the front and dotted the "I" with a heart," he teased, showing it to me as he spoke.

"This girl's got it bad for you, AJ."

I rolled my eyes and punched him in the shoulder. "Cut it out, Bastiaan. What'd she write?"

"Ooh, and she gets defensive, too. Okay, okay. This one's not quite as long as the other one…

"Nikka, I hope you're resting well. Once again, you've got me unable to sleep, although considering the reason, I can't complain too much. Before I continue, I want to say again that I'm sorry for being upset with you these past few days. Yes, I was, and I'm sure you noticed it. I shouldn't have been. I'll admit that I just had this idea in my head from day one of us being together, my imagination doesn't usually take wild leaps like that, and I'd about convinced myself that you felt the same way. I only set myself up for that fall, and I had no reason to be angry with you for it.

"At any rate… my imagination had nothing on tonight. I nearly didn't want to believe what you were telling me, but when I did… well, I didn't want to let you go. I missed talking to you and being near you and just seeing you. And I have a confession to make. I know I offered to give your shirt back to you tonight, but I really didn't have any intentions of actually following through. I slept with it wrapped around me both nights, and in fact, it's resting on my lap under this pad of paper as I write. Tell anyone that and I'll be forced to deny it.

"And another little smiley face," teased Bastiaan, showing me the small drawing. I rolled my eyes at him, and he chuckled. "Head over heels, definitely," he muttered, before clearing his throat and finishing the letter.

"I can't wait to see you again. Like I said tonight, baby, we're going at your pace. Just tell me if I do something that's too fast for you, anything that makes you uncomfortable. That includes if you start thinking maybe I'm smothering you just a bit, spending too much time together. I know that can happen, and it's okay if you want to be alone for a while, have some time to yourself. Don't ever be afraid to talk to me, Nikka, tell me whatever is on your mind. Good or bad, I'll listen, and we'll talk it through, okay? I promise.

"You seemed a little worried tonight whenever my father was around. We're safe in my house, and on our property. I won't ask you to tell or not to tell your parents about anything, baby, I'll only say that I'm here for you, with whatever you decide to do. 

"Hope you get some sleep. I don't think I'll walk this one out to your mailbox, if only because I've been sitting here with your shirt over my shoulders the past little while and now, with your smell around me, I'm ready for bed." Bastiaan blinked at me, raising an eyebrow at the several ways he could take that statement, but didn't say anything as I fought a blush. "Talk to you soon. Sweet dreams, baby. Good night.

"I'd say she's definitely got it bad for you, AJ."

I said nothing as I folded the letter and put it back in the envelope, thoughtful.

"Bastiaan?" I began, at last, and my brother raised an eyebrow at me with a grunt to continue. "She really likes me."

The tone of my voice told him this was not time to tease. "I'd say so," he replied, with the same seriousness. "What's wrong?"

"She's really smart."

He nodded, indicating he was in no position to dispute that.

"I really like her." Another nod from my sibling. "She doesn't know I'm dyslexic, I haven't told her. What do I do when she finds out, Bastiaan?"

"What you should always do, AJ, be honest. She'll find out soon enough from someone if she doesn't catch on herself. I think you should tell her. She probably won't like it if she finds out you kept it from her, and it's not something you have to hide, Annika; I doubt she'll think any less of you for it, if the admiration in this letter gives us any idea."

I sighed. "Be honest, be myself? Is that all you can tell me?"

My twin chuckled, and brought me into a brief hug. "That's the best advice I've got, little sis. And it's not always easy, believe me, but it's the right thing to do."

"I kissed her tonight," I said, after a moment. "We actually kissed, for real. It was just like… wow."

Bastiaan grinned. "I'm proud of you, AJ," came the light response, and I rolled my eyes at him. "No, really, it's great. But, listen. You know you can talk to me about anything, Annika, whenever you need. But Kevyn might not be so happy if she knows you're telling me all this; kiss and tell, as it were." I felt his hand on my arm. "Okay?"

I nodded. "So I can still talk to you, though, right? I mean, if I have a problem or something?"

"That will never change, and I'm not saying you have to change what you're doing now. Only warning you that if Kevyn hears that I know all the private details of your relationship, well… some people take offense to that, you know?" 

I guess I could understand that.

"I have a question, then." I think he finally realized that this was not going to be a short conversation, and moved his book, giving us both room to stretch out on his bed so we were more comfortable. "I really like being around her. I mean, I was thinking today, that I would rather be with her than outside with the horses, or the dogs, or anywhere with anyone else! Why would I think like that, Bastiaan? I love the ranch, I love being outside, I've never liked being inside much, especially in the rain. But I spent all day inside with Kevyn and never once missed being out on the land," I said, finishing with, "What does that mean?"

"Hmm… that certainly is a deep thought. I'd say you like her as much as she seems to like you," deduced my brother, and I bit back another sigh. I can say now for certain that he wanted to say "love", but didn't want to frighten me, and would rather me to figure that out on my own. "I can't explain your own feelings to you, sis. All I can say is that I think your heart must be pretty serious to be thinking like that, and quick, for only having known each other for two weeks."

Nothing I couldn't have figured out myself. Great. Some help he was.

I stood, and was about to go, when I remembered that the next day was his anniversary with Bobby. I'd had an idea of what I wanted to do for a gift, but needed a few things from my brother, first.

"Hey, Bastiaan, what's Bobby's favorite color?"

He blinked at me, startled by the sudden question. "Green, why?"

"Do you have a picture of him around?"

His gaze narrowed slightly. "Why?"

I punched his arm. "Because I want to light some candles and do some voodoo, and I need something to burn in the circle. For crying out loud, Bastiaan, do you have a picture of him or not?"

Taking his wallet from his dresser drawer, he opened it and quickly retrieved a photo, warning me not to leave it lying around or anything. There, seated casually on a bench in Yosemite, I believe, was the object of my brother's affection. He had been in the middle of reading a map of the park, it seemed, and Basitaan had called his name, snapping the picture soon after. Still, although it had been spontaneous, Bobby was well-poised with a wide smile, the sincere happiness in his features almost reaching out to me from the photograph.

"When did you guys get the chance to go to Yosemite?"

Bastiaan blushed a little, and admitted, "It was our first date. I told mom and dad I was camping with a few friends from school…"

I gave my brother a small grin, not quite sure if I should be pleased at the information or saddened that the lie was necessary.

I flipped it over and saw a message that Bobby had written on the back, raising an eyebrow as it became readily apparent why my brother didn't want it left out where anyone could find it; hearts adorned the corners. From the hard look I gave the writing, I could tell it was signed "Love, Robert". You just didn't use that many flowing lines and hearts to write "See you later".

"Thanks," I grinned, giving my brother a hug good night and walking down the hall to my room, photo from Bastiaan in my left hand and envelope from Kevyn in the other. I put the letter from Kevyn in a box in my closet, as I had the previous one, where my mother would never have a reason to look. Then, setting the photo of Bobby on my desk, I readied my pencils and prepared to make an anniversary gift.

* * * * *

I stayed up until nearly one-thirty in the morning putting the final touches on the present for my brother and Bobby, and presented it to my sibling when he got up the next morning.

"Annika," he smiled, "this is wonderful." In heavy outlines and light color shadings, I'd drawn a picture montage of the couple. Bobby was on the bench as he had been in the photo, but I placed my brother standing just behind him, near his shoulder. The richest color was the green of the grass and the light green hue I spread in a mist-like fashion around the edges of the paper, giving Bastiaan a soft blue for his shirt and a mixed gray for Bobby. If either of them cared to look close enough, I had scrawled the date on one part of the bench, as though someone had carved it there.

I was glad he liked it, and said I hoped Bobby would, too.

"What are you guys doing for the day, or don't I want to know?"

He grinned, eyes so much like mine shining brightly. "Bobby says he has a reservation for a hotel tonight, but the rest of it is a surprise."

"Please, spare me the details." I laughed at his blush. "All right, then, I won't ask to tag along. You two crazy kids have fun. Lovebirds," I snorted, catching the rather dreamy smile that told me my brother was thinking of Bobby. Or had heard his name. Or thought he'd heard his name.

I shook my head. It was sad, really.

"I could say the same about you with Kevyn," he returned, and I blinked, snapping my jaw shut. He was right. Damn. I didn't look that goofy when I thought about her, did I?

"Aw, come on, bro," I protested, "I'm not that bad."

An arm was slung across my shoulders and I received an affectionate squeeze. "No," my brother agreed, much too easily, "you're worse. Trust me, little sister, you've got it just as bad as she does."

I rolled my eyes, and stepped away from his grasp. "Go on. Have fun, and tell Bobby I said 'hey'." Bastiaan smiled and practically flew out the door, my parents chuckling, as they believed he was off to see his girlfriend.

I spent some time with the horses, grooming them and checking on the pregnant mares. They all seemed to be doing fine, and I glanced up when Shannon snorted and the dogs began to bark, Ramya racing past. Then, I heard it, too. Someone was coming up on foot.

Exiting the barn, my jaw hit the ground when I saw Kevyn walking towards me, Ramya bounding along beside her. Then, my joyous surprise turned into a ball of fear.

Oh god, if Dad sees her out here, it won't be pretty.

"Kevyn, what are you doing here?" I questioned, pulling her into the barn and out of sight of the house, praying neither of my parents would wonder about the curious barking of the dogs, nor the fact that Ramya was prancing happily just outside the barn door.

If my movements startled her, she didn't show it. "I just thought I'd stop by and surprise you," she smiled, kissing my cheek. "I called and your mom told me you were out in the barn, and that she'd have you call when you were done, but I wanted more than just your voice."

At that, any thoughts of my parents spying her were gone, but, thankfully, I was too nervous to blush. "Is something wrong?" I asked, wondering if she was in need of a hug or something.

"Does something have to be wrong for me to want to see you?" she asked softly, sounding a little hurt, and I scolded myself.

"Well, no," I sputtered, "of course not. I just wasn't expecting you."

"That's why they call it a surprise, baby."

I cast a glance toward the house, and agreed absently, "Yeah, you're right."

Strikingly beautiful green eyes gave me a sharp look. "Is this a bad time, Nikka?"

I turned my focus back to her, quickly. "No! No, I'm glad to see you, it's just... my dad…" I was trying to figure out how to say that my father had forbidden her to be around our house in a way that wouldn't hurt her. Was there a nice way to tell someone that your father hated them?

I couldn't think of anything.

"Your father…?" she drawled, prompting me to continue, raising an eyebrow at my behavior.

"Is coming!" I squeaked, seeing the front door open, my dad walking towards the barn with long strides. I thought quickly, and opened the door to the tack room.

Kevyn just stared at me, arms going across her chest in disbelief.

"Please, Kevyn. Just for a minute. You have to hide," I begged. "He can't see you here. Please."

With a sigh, she walked in, and I felt my heart flinch as I shut the door, none too gently in my rush.

"AJ," my dad called, and I tried not to tremble as he walked in, patting Ramya on the head, "how are you doing out here?"

"Everyone's fine," I said, quickly. Was it just me, or was he giving me a look that said he knew I was lying?

"Your mother and I wondered when we heard the dogs bark."

I shrugged as casually as I could. "Probably a rabbit," I guessed, wondering if it was my heartbeat I heard or Kevyn's, hoping with all my might that my dad couldn't hear it. Wasn't that some sort of Poe tale? I think I remember my brother reading that to me once, when he had a play for school or something.

He nodded, chuckling. "Probably. Well, your mother wants to go Christmas shopping, I think, so don't wait up. She said she'd leave something in the oven for you for dinner."

My smile was forced and I kept my eyes trained on my dad instead of darting to the tack shed. Any minute now I would start shouting about how I was sorry, I had made her hide in the tack room, and it would all be over… wasn't that how it went? I was praying for two things - one, that my dad would leave soon, and two, that Kevyn would forgive me.

I heard the car door close and knew my mom had already gotten in. They were leaving right away, then. Good.

"Okay," I replied, concentrating on keeping my voice even. "I'll take care of everything here tonight."

"Give the dogs a bath some time tonight, too," he added.

"Sure."

"That's going to keep you busy all night, so no need to go see that girl. You stay here, got me?" His eyes bore into mine, and I nodded, swallowing.

"Yeah. Got it."

"Good. If we stay until closing, like I'm sure your mom will want, we won't be back until late. See you in the morning, then."

He walked out, and I was poised by the door, waiting until I was sure they had driven off to pull it open and start groveling.

"Kevyn, honey, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to just - "

Her hand was over my mouth, and I froze, confused. I didn't even get to explain, before she started in on me? Oh, that was bad.

"It's okay."

I blinked.

"I understand, baby. Your father still doesn't want me around, does he?"

I shook my head, slowly.

"And if he would have seen me, you would have gotten into trouble, right?"

I nodded.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'll just wait for your call next time."

Placing a kiss against the fingers that covered my mouth, I moved her hand so I could speak.

"I'm glad you're here, Kevyn, and it's not your fault. I should have told you, but I didn't want to hurt you."

There was that eyebrow again. She took a few steps forward, before turning back to face me with her hands on her hips. "And having me hide in the tack room didn't?"

I hung my head, and then felt her hand against my cheek.

"Remember how I said you could talk to me about anything, Nikka?" I nodded, still looking down at my feet, feeling lower than the dirt I was scuffing up with my boot. "I meant that, even about things that you think I won't like or might hurt my feelings, okay?" Her voice was soft and honest, and I breathed in relief that she wasn't mad.

Pulling her to me, I nodded again, holding her tightly. "I promise." I kissed her temple, and then, knowing no one was home, moved to her lips, feeling her hands clasp behind my neck, heart pounding as I felt the full length of her body pressed against mine. My hands went to her waist and held her close, my right hand moving slowly up her side, completely of its own accord - I swear. I didn't realize what I was doing until I heard her gasp into the kiss, and noticed with a shock that the tips of my fingers were brushing the side of her breast.

I snatched my hand away like I'd been burned and stepped back, tripping as I fell through the open door of the tack room, landing on the hard dirt. As if my first action wasn't enough to warrant a dark blush, now I'd fallen on my ass in front of her. I felt my cheeks flush hotly as I waited for her to laugh.

"Are you all right?" she asked, coming to my side and kneeling down, showing no signs of laughing at my fall.

"Fine," I said, not looking at her as I stammered, "I… I'm sorry, Kevyn. I didn't know I was… I mean, I didn't mean to… I shouldn't have… I mean… I'm sorry."

Now she chuckled, but it was gentle, and she offered her hand to help me to my feet. I took it, and she hauled me upwards, saying as I brushed myself off, "There's a sentence in there somewhere just dying to get out, I know it." I looked down again, embarrassed, and she tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, leaving her hand against my cheek. "I didn't mean to embarrass you, sweetheart. I know you didn't realize what you were doing, but even if you did, it's really okay. Really."

I smiled a little. Were her eyes a little darker, or was it the poor light coming into the barn? Maybe it truly was all right.

"There's that beautiful smile." Of course, my smile grew at that, and she squeezed my hand. "You never have to apologize for being affectionate, baby. Okay? If you want to show me how much you care, or how much you want me, it's a pretty safe bet that it's more than all right with me."

Intertwining our fingers, I began leading her towards the house. "Thank you." She was so understanding, I wasn't quite sure what I'd done to deserve someone as patient as her, but I wasn't about to question it. "Come on."

She paused. "Nikka, your dad said…"

I raised an eyebrow at her, and she smirked. "No one's home right now, and they won't be back until late tonight. I know I already showed you the house at the dinner, but I really want you to meet our animals. I think you'll like Hamlet," I urged, and she gave in, following me easily as I closed the door behind us.

 

Chapter Twelve

 

I gave her a more detailed tour, and introduced her properly to Hamlet, whom she liked. He fluffed up and strutted around for her, showing off, and I laughed at his antics. I let him out, and she was a little hesitant at first about holding him.

"He's a little heavy, but he won't hurt you," I assured her. "Here, put your arm out like this," I instructed, taking her hand and showing her. Hamlet walked from my arm to Kevyn's easily, settling on her shoulder and tasting her hair. She smiled, and walked slowly until she got used to his weight.

The spoiled bird rode up there on her shoulder for the rest of the tour, alternating "Pretty bird" and "Good Hamlet" with "AJ" and "Bastiaan", as though he was trying to get a feel for this new guest's name. I decided I'd have to take the time to teach him to say "Kevyn", and surprise her the next chance I had. I thought she'd probably like that.

Noticing the drawing table in my room, she asked to see some of my work, and I pulled my portfolio out of my closet, showing it to her. I couldn't watch her as she looked over it, I just couldn't stand to see if she disliked the pictures, so I busied myself with Rhett, who was curled up on my pillow, eyeing Hamlet with mild interest.

"Nikka," she said, at last, looking over at me, "these are really good. Have you ever thought of getting them published anywhere?"

I shook my head, and put them away. "It's nothing," I protested, "just a hobby. Nothing to take serious, you know."

"Nothing to take serious?" she repeated, and stood to face me. "Nikka, you are a very talented artist, and you obviously enjoy it. That makes it something to be serious about right there, and I believe you can definitely go far with your work."

"I…" I was about to protest again, but decided against it when she put her hands on her hips. "Thank you." What could I do? I wasn't going to argue with her, I knew I'd never win, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. She believed in me… I just smiled and soaked up the faith and praise as long as I could, and kissed her forehead. I bent closer to kiss her lips, but just as I did, Hamlet reached out and bit my ear.

"Ow!"

Kevyn chuckled softly, stroking the bird. "I think somebody's jealous," she teased, and I glared at the Macaw.

"Thanks a lot, buddy."

He squawked at me, and shook his head.

Drawing my hand back, and although relieved that he hadn't broken the skin, I frowned at him. 

"All right, you, back in your cage. You know better than that." He sulked the whole way back, and almost refused to go onto my arm when I opened the cage, but I coaxed him in and shut the door, muttering a quick good night.

There was a slightly awkward silence for a moment as we stood, looking at Hamlet, until the sound of Kevyn's stomach growling reached my ears. I grinned at her.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah, I didn't eat lunch before I came over, and I should probably get back for dinner, anyways."

My heart fell at the thought of her leaving. "Can't you stay?"

"Baby, I'd love to, and I appreciate the offer, but if I heard correctly, your mom left dinner for you. I'm sure that…"

"Mom always makes plenty," I jumped in, quickly, taking her hand and gently leading her to the kitchen. "And even if she didn't, I could make you something."

She smiled, and squeezed my hand. "Well, with an offer like that, how can I refuse?" I put my arms around her in a quick hug. "So, what's for dinner?"

"I have to see what mom left," I replied. "Hopefully some of the vegetable lasagna from last night." Seeing that was indeed what she'd saved for me to eat, and there was more than enough for Kevyn and I to share, and probably still have enough left over for each of the dogs, a sudden thought struck me, and I glanced up.

Kevyn was eyeing the meal with interest, and I wondered if she'd ever had it before. Maybe she wanted meat for dinner. Damn. I should have asked.

"Um, is this okay?" I questioned, biting my lip. "We're all vegetarians, but if you would rather have something else, I can…"

"No," she said, cutting me off by putting her hand over my mouth, "this is fine, Nikka. It looks wonderful. And I'm always up for trying something new." The eyebrow raise she accompanied with that statement brought a flush to my cheeks for some reason, and she chuckled, moving her hand and asking me where the dishes were so she could set the table.

Dinner went well. She liked the lasagna, and then asked how it came that our whole family was vegetarian. 

"When my mom was younger, she found out she had Hepatitis C," I began. "It affects the liver, you know, and the doctors she went to see said that it wasn't too bad, but in order to keep her liver healthy a change in diet would be good. So they said she couldn't drink any alcohol, and that too much caffeine and sugar were bad, and meat was hard for the body to digest so might be good to avoid, and processed foods often brought too many preservatives and things like that into the body. She says it took her like a year to totally change her diet, but she did, and when she met my dad, he didn't want to make it any harder on her, and started eating what she did. Then, when my brother and I were born, we were just raised that way. It's not that we can't eat meat, but we've gone so long without it, it usually doesn't taste that good."

Kevyn nodded. "But your mom's okay?"

I smiled at her concern. "Yeah," I assured her. "She doesn't drink, and she's real good about what she eats. She still gets blood tests every year and everything, but everything is at the level it's supposed to be, she says. Her liver is still healthy."

She helped me clear the table, and tried to start dishes, but I waved her away. "I'll get to them later," I told her, not wanting her to spend her first time in my house doing chores.

"Didn't your dad ask you to bathe the dogs?" she questioned, and I nodded, only then remembering. 

Hm… how was I going to handle this one? I didn't want her to leave, but hanging around while I washed the dogs probably wasn't high on her list of things to do for the evening.

She answered before I could come to a conclusion. "Why don't you call them in, baby? I'll help."

"Well," I paused, "you don't have to…"

"I want to. It'll go faster with both of us, right?" I nodded. "Okay, then. Come on. I don't even know their names yet. Now is a good a time as any to get to know them," she smiled, and I returned the grin, leaving her in the living room as I went to the front door and stuck my head out, whistling softly. They were all sleeping on the front porch, staying out of the light snow that had started to fall. I shook my head at them, chuckling to myself. They had a doghouse with blankets inside, it had taken my brother and I two months to get it all done just the way we wanted, and they rarely slept in it.

Hearing my call, they bounded inside happily, jumping over each other to get to me, trying to be the one that got most of my attention. I laughed as they ran around my legs, nearly tripping me, petting them all for a few minutes until they calmed down.

Walking back to the living room, I found Kevyn standing with her back to me, looking up at the pictures on the mantle of the fireplace. There were photos of my brother and I when we were younger, and a few when we were older, though once I left school they weren't taken as frequently. My parents had their wedding picture up there, and of course, a few grade-school projects we'd made for them, such as the plaster mold of our hands.

The one she was looking at right then, as far as I could tell, was the most recent picture of me. It was about a year old, I estimated, back when I still competed in the local rodeo. I was sitting atop a beautiful roan gelding named High Standard, and we'd done very well together in the younger division of barrel racing. He was also a wonderful horse to have on the ranch, and herded cattle with the dogs as often as he could, with movements that were sharp and controlled. We still had him, but I'd gotten too busy for the competitions, and he spent his time now talking with the cattle across the fence, herding only if my father took him out.

Seeing her there, in the low light, oblivious to my presence behind her, I felt that urge again; only this time there was no rain to change my mind. I walked up quietly and wrapped my arms around her stomach, leaning down and nuzzling her neck, kissing just beneath her ear. She leaned into me and put her hands over mine, keeping me where I was, and tilted her head a little. I took this as a sign to continue, and kissed her neck again, feeling her pulse beat against my lips, rapid and strong. 

She turned slowly in my arms, and my lips never left her throat. I heard a slight gasp escape from her mouth, and I wasn't quite sure where the sudden heat in the room had come from, nor the intense tingling I felt in my gut, but that soft sound only increased it all. I kissed her lips, then, and pulled her closer, feeling her pressed against me for the second time that day.

The gasp that came this time was mine, when her hip made contact with the front of my jeans. Before I could wonder about the sensation that sent everywhere, I realized I was moving against her, intensifying the pressure, and went to kiss her again.

She pulled back, and I tried again, but she put a gentle hand on my chest and took a half-step away from me.

I swallowed, afraid I had done something wrong, and my eyes grew wide. The rush of fear I felt at that thought pushed the pleasure from moments ago to the back of my mind, though I still burned where her hip had touched.

"I…"

I didn't get a chance to even begin apologizing, because she kissed me quickly, effectively keeping me quiet.

"Don't think of telling me you're sorry," she said, and I frowned slightly, confused. If she wasn't upset, why did she pull away from me? As though reading the question in my eyes, Kevyn continued, "Because you didn't do anything wrong. Believe me, sweetheart, I would love to keep going, but it's a little fast. I don't want to rush into something you might regret."

"I wouldn't regret it!" I protested, immediately, and she chuckled softly.

"There'll be time," she promised, kissing the corner of my mouth and walking over to the dogs, and I took a deep breath, feeling slightly drunk.

When I joined her, groaning inwardly when I felt her against me with every step, I told her their names, and she smiled.

"They're all unique names," she said, laughing when Ramya bumped into her legs, requesting more attention.

I nodded, scratching Shanahan's belly. "They are. Ramya means beautiful, Kelman means merciful, Shanahan means clever, and Duke, of course, means leader. My parents have a thing for names and their meanings," I grinned.

Glancing at her watch, she said, "Well, we should probably start getting these guys clean."

"Let me start a fire, so they can get warm after we're done," I said, moving to get a starter log and some kindling from the stack by the fireplace. It took only a few minutes, and soon the flame was strong and heating the entire room. I knew it wouldn't be long before I could turn the furnace down.

"We can take Shanahan in the sink in my parents' room, they have a big bathroom and she's small enough, but I'll have to get the tub for the others," I explained, and took the Corgi in my arms, Kevyn laughing when she kept licking my chin, despite my attempts at getting her to quit.

Kevyn held the small dog still and kept her distracted while I washed her clean, and rinsed her off, and then retrieved a towel. I think she offered to do that on purpose, leaving me to get soaked when Shanahan shook herself, judging by the bright laugh I heard. I turned to see her standing in the doorway, towel clutched in one hand, supporting herself on the door frame with the other, laughing all the harder when the dog leapt into my arms, drenching me.

I gave her a mock growl, and then turned it to Kevyn, pouting, "Some help you are."

She chuckled, and kissed my chin. I wasn't able to keep my pout then, and smiled, giving Shanahan to her when she held open the towel. Shanahan wriggled happily under all the attention. We took her out to the living room, then, and set her down in front of the fire. The others sniffed her interestedly, and Kelman gave me a wary look, knowing that he was going to have to get washed, too. He was the only one who didn't like water very much.

I figured I could give him a break, and bathe him last.

I dug out the tub from the garage, then, and began to fill it with water. When there were a few inches of warm water in the bottom of what used to be a swimming pool for my brother and I when we were little, I called for Ramya. She bounded over, and I had to stop her before she jumped into the pool, sending water everywhere. I led her in slowly, and Kevyn again held her still, stroking her forehead and scratching her ears, telling her she was being a very good and patient dog, the wagging of her tail making it difficult for me to wash the wolfhound without getting splashed.

Finally, she was rinsed, and I rubbed a towel over her, though she still shook and managed to spray me. Kevyn had remained relatively dry through it all, and grinned at me, sweetly. I shook my head, and asked her to take Ramya into the living room and bring Duke into the kitchen, where we were bathing them, for the sake of the tile, which mopped up much easier than carpet. We'd moved the table to the far end of the room, so the center was open, and no furniture would get wet, the floor would just need to be dried with a few towels when we were done.

No, I was only one soaked in this endeavor. 

The redhead returned in a moment, Duke in tow, and waited until I had changed the water out before she led him into the tub easily. He was good for me, and sat when I asked him to, so I could reach his chest and front feet with ease. Kevyn barely had to hang on to him, but then again, he was used to this by now. He was the oldest dog we had, at eight years, and had been through dozens of baths at my hands.

Then Duke was done, and it was time for Kelman. I had changed out the water, which was done by simply dumping it out the back door into the yard, when Kevyn called to me from the living room, "Nikka, Kelman won't come with me."

Shaking my head a bit, I walked up next to where he was lying, refusing to get to his feet when Kevyn asked. I knelt down and gently scratched his shoulder. 

"Come on, Kel, you've got to get up for me. Dad says I've got to wash all of you, and that means you, too. I know you don't like water, buddy, but I promise to make it quick as I can," I said, rubbing his nose. He snorted at me, and gave me a pleading look that almost made me decide to just let him lay there.

"All right, buddy. I'm sorry about this," I said, as I picked him up into my arms and, standing slowly, carried him into the kitchen and set him into the pool of warm water. He sat instantly, and began shaking, though I knew it was from his dislike of water than being cold. My heart broke, and I asked Kevyn if she would try to calm him, while I finished as quickly as possible. She spoke softly to the Shepherd, telling him it would be all right, that there was no reason to be scared, and in just a few minutes, I was done. I hadn't done as thorough of a job as I had on the rest, but he was clean enough.

I dried him off with the towel, let him shake a bit, and then took him into the living room, adding a little more wood to the fire. The other dogs were all huddled in a pile, keeping themselves warm, and Kelman joined them, curling up beside Ramya.

Kevyn chuckled softly at the sight, and walked up beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist. She stepped away after a moment, laughing, "Your shirt's a little wet, baby. And you smell like dog."

I rolled my eyes. "I just washed four dogs and somebody managed to avoid getting shook on every time," I said, and started to walk towards her. She turned and headed away from me, though I'm still not sure if she just didn't know her way around very well or if she meant to, but either way, we ended up in the kitchen. She was out of my sight for just a second, and when I rounded the corner, I saw her kneeling beside the tub, head down. My instant thought was that she'd been hurt.

"Kevyn?" I asked, approaching her quickly, concerned.

She spun around suddenly and splashed me with water.

"Oh, no you don't," I laughed, when it registered that she was okay, and quickly bent down to splash her back. Her laugh filled the kitchen, and it didn't take long before there was water all over the floor, and Kevyn was about as soaked as I was. I gave up and admitted defeat, sprawling out across the tile, making her chuckle. My eyes were closed, but I felt her beside me as she kneeled, and I sat up smoothly, pressing my lips to hers in a deep kiss which she easily returned.

She followed my movements when I lay back down, and there we were, lying in the middle of my kitchen floor involved in a heated kissing session, when I heard the front door open.

I froze and opened my eyes, and judging by the wide emerald gaze that was staring back at me, Kevyn had heard the sound, too. Now there came heavy footfalls, and I realized that whoever had come in hadn't taken their shoes off. 

That was strange…

I had started to sit up again, to do what I don't know, but when Bastiaan's form filled the kitchen doorway, I collapsed to the floor once more, in relief. Kevyn took a deep breath, and chuckled at my expression, while my brother raised an eyebrow at us.

"AJ…" he began, to warn me, I'm sure, but I waved him away without looking up.

"Mom and dad still won't be home for a while, Kevyn just helped me wash the dogs. But, damn, Bastiaan, you scared the living daylights out of us," I accused.

"I only came home for a second. I told Bobby I was just running to the store… I rushed out so fast this morning I forgot his gift," came the admission, and while I normally would have laughed at his sheepish expression, I still felt Kevyn's lips on mine and just wanted him to leave again.

"Hi, Kevyn."

Kevyn smiled at him, and nodded. "Hello, Bastiaan."

My twin grinned broadly. "I can see what's got my sister so head-over-heels," he said, and I blushed a little, flicking some water at him to no effect.

"Go away," I growled, and he laughed, deciding he had chatted long enough, and went to his room. Moments later, the front door closed again, and he was gone.

I began laughing, as my nerves began to calm, and Kevyn joined me, and though I sat up to kiss her again, she didn't lay beside me this time.

"I should go, before your parents come home," she said, reluctantly, and I did the only thing I could think of. I pouted. She smiled gently, and kissed the bridge of my nose, saying, "Baby, you know I'd love to stay. But I don't want to get you in trouble. I'll talk to you tomorrow, all right?"

I knew she was right, and being reasonable, but damn it, I didn't have to like it. My pout disappeared, however, as I helped her to her feet. I tugged on her hand until she was in the living room again, and kissed her cheek. "Stay here and get warm," I told her, "and I'll find you a shirt you can change into. Then I'll drive you back." There was no way I was going to let her walk back in the snow, which I'd noticed every time I changed the water for the dogs, and it hadn't lessened any since it began earlier that evening.

She stood by the fire and nodded, giving me no argument. I knew she was cold, then, and hurried upstairs to my room. Digging through my drawers, I found a shirt I had outgrown that I figured might be a little big, but would fit. Then I took my warmest hooded sweatshirt, hoping it would keep her warm, and went back downstairs.

She'd been standing when I left, but now she was seated beside the dogs, absently stroking their fur as they all kept close to the heat of the fire. Ramya, who seemed especially taken with her, licked her hand, earnestly pleading for more attention.

I cleared my throat softly so as not to startle her, and she smiled up at me, warming me more than the strongest fire.

"These should fit," I said, offering them to her, and she got up to take them from me, making her way to the bathroom to change. I started cleaning the kitchen, and by the time I came in from the garage, having put the tub back where it belonged, she was downstairs and dressed. The shirt she must have tucked into her jeans, and the sweatshirt was big, almost ridiculously so. The sleeves were bunched up to her shoulder, almost, in order for her hands to be seen, and the waist went down to her mid-thigh, but as long as she was warm, I don't think she was about to complain.

Besides, I thought she looked adorable.

Turning her head to the side, she took a deep breath into the fabric, and then smiled pointedly at me, making me blush. I knew she was inhaling my scent from the clothes, as she had with my shirt.

"I'll help you move the table back," she said, and in a few minutes, she'd done all the help that I'd allow, and said it was time for her to go. I sighed at that, but had to agree, checking my watch. Some of the stores kept later hours during the few weeks before Christmas, and I knew my mom would haul my dad around until they closed, but it was already nearly eight-thirty. I guessed they'd be home no later than ten, but it could be any time before then.

Donning my jacket and pulling up the hood, I fastened her hood as well, and she stood patiently, enduring my fussing with ease. We made our way out to the truck, Kevyn laughing delightedly the whole time at the white flakes that were falling, watching her breath freeze every time she laughed, and laughing all the more. I was glad not much had fallen and stuck, however, so it wouldn't be too difficult to drive.

I started the engine and let it warm up for a little while, before calling my girlfriend in from the snow. She was dancing around, enjoying it, and while I hated to end her fun, I didn't want her catching cold, either. She climbed in beside me, and even driving slowly in accordance to the weather, we arrived at her house in less than ten minutes. 

She unbuckled her seat belt and kissed my cheek softly before putting her hand on the door handle to leave, but I called her name. She turned, giving me a gentle look as she waited for me to continue.

"I… thanks, for coming by."

I got a smile for that, and a brief kiss. "My pleasure, sweetheart, believe me. Now, you go on home before you get in trouble, and I'll talk to you tomorrow. Sweet dreams." Since I knew she wouldn't let me walk with her and tuck her in this time, I settled for a deep kiss that didn't last quite as long as I had hoped, before she pulled away and winked, closing the door firmly behind her as she stepped out. I waited until I was sure she was safely in the house before turning and driving in the opposite direction.

My parents weren't back yet when I returned, which was a good thing, as I'd realized I still had dishes from a two-person dinner sitting in the sink. I supposed I could have lied and said that Bastiaan came home for dinner, but I didn't have to, and quickly set to washing them clean. I dried them off and was putting them away when I heard my parents drive up.

"AJ, are you up?" called my mom, smiling and cooing to the dogs how clean they all looked.

"Yeah," I replied, throwing the dish towel on the counter as I headed for the front door to meet her.

My dad came in behind her, and they both set a few shopping bags on the floor of the living room. "Come help us unload, will you?" I agreed, but even with all three of us, it took quite a while before everything was in and put away. My dad had added even more wood to the fire, so it was plenty warm now, and I walked upstairs to put my shirt in the clothes hamper, startled when I found Kevyn's shirt still in the bathroom. 

She must have forgotten it, I thought, and took it before either of my parents could find it, wrapping it in my own shirt and putting them both in my closet. I would wash them myself the next day, and make sure to get it back to her.

"Your mother wore me out, carrying bags around all night, stopping at every shop in sight," said my dad, teasing my mom, who laughed and lightly slapped his arm, "so we're going on to bed. The dogs look fine."

I nodded. "No problems," I assured him, and gave them both a quick kiss on the cheek as they entered their room and closed the door. I let out a breath of relief I didn't know I'd been holding. There was something in the back of my mind that had been nagging since they'd come home, sure I was forgetting something that would give away Kevyn's presence, but now the night was over, and they had no clue.

I smiled to myself, and made sure the dogs were dry before letting them back out for the night, secure in the thought that all was right. I'd had Kevyn over for hours on end, but they didn't have any idea, and what they didn't know couldn't hurt me. I was sure my mom would have at least one more shopping trip before Christmas, thinking of a few things she'd forgotten to buy the first time, and was already planning on inviting Kevyn. I wasn't so sure what Bastiaan had been worried about, so elated was I at the time. Keeping my relationship with Kevyn a secret wasn't turning out to be as hard as I thought.

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

The ten days until Christmas passed by quickly, as time always seems to do around the holidays. I helped out around the ranch in the mornings, and then spent most of my evenings with Kevyn. Since I was still taking care of all my chores, my dad couldn't complain, though I knew he wasn't pleased. I didn't care. All the new bravado I felt around the beautiful woman went right to my head, leaving me slightly dizzy and able to focus solely on her. We spent nearly as much time kissing as we did talking or anything else.

We still rode double, although Frances was doing much better, and nearly completely healed. If the snow wasn't too bad, we went out to Mustang Point for lunch, although the sightings of the wild horses weren't quite as frequent as they had been at first. I wondered where they spent the winter, but didn't worry.

Every few days, I'd find another letter in the mailbox for me, and with the weather the way it was, Kevyn had actually started sending them rather than walking them over. I couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that she'd rather spend thirty-seven cents to give me something in the mail than simply hand it to me when I was at her house. Bastiaan dutifully read them to me every time, enjoying the opportunity to tease me, but also coming to the realization that my feelings were deeper than I understood, and trying to help where he could.

When it was snowing too hard or just too cold to go outside, we'd stay warm in her house, usually curled up together on the sofa. I no longer panicked when her parents came around, and in fact felt like I had a second home. I helped Patrick with dinner, and actually cooked for them all on my own once, a meal they all exclaimed was wonderful, Diane giving me a warm look throughout the dinner.

She asked Kevyn and Patrick to leave us in the kitchen, as I was clearing the table, and I wondered if I was in trouble. The wink Kevyn gave me as she walked into the den with her father was reassuring, but, still… I was a little nervous.

"Come sit," she requested, motioning to the chair at her side. I did as she asked, my knee immediately starting to bounce. She noticed, and chuckled, patting my hand. "It's all right, AJ, you're not in any trouble. I just wanted to thank you, for being here with Kevyn. I know my getting sick has been very hard on her, but she doesn't like to show it, and I know she tries to be strong for me, and for Patrick, as well. You let her know she doesn't have to be strong, and that's just what she needs. You're just what she needs.

"You've been so good to my whole family, AJ," now there were tears in both of our eyes, "and it means so much to me to know that you'll take care of her."

I clutched at her hand, albeit gently. "Of course I will, Diane, but don't talk like this," I pleaded, frightened at the implication I had gotten from her tone.

"Oh, AJ…" Her fingers squeezed mine. "The doctor said it's not improving, and it won't improve. In fact, it's beginning to spread again." I felt my stomach drop. "I don't want to worry them, dear, please don't say anything. But Kevyn's going to need you, more than ever. Please, tell me you'll be there for her."

"Always," I promised. "Always." Then I embraced her, and felt her thin frame in my arms, even through the layers of clothes she wore, and started to cry. In that instant, I understood a fraction of what Kevyn must have felt every day, knowing that in time, she was going to lose the wonderful woman I was hugging, and I admired her bravery and strength. It was a long time before I was able to pull away and wipe at my eyes, and when Diane kissed my forehead, I almost broke down again.

That was just three days before Christmas, when Diane and I talked in the kitchen. I told Kevyn, regretfully, (once I had washed my face and forced myself to walk with a lighter step) that I wouldn't be able to see her until the day after Christmas, because my parents not only wanted my help setting up the decorations around the house, but were planning a birthday party for me and my brother. 

I didn't realize until she nudged me that I'd never mentioned my birthday before.

"You sure don't give a girl much warning," she teased, and I chuckled. "You know this means I have to think of something to give you for your birthday and Christmas."

I shook my head. "Honey, you don't have to buy me anything." When she was going to insist, I kissed her softly, and admitted, "All I want or need is right here." The kiss she replied with was enough to curl my toes, which of course led to more kisses, and soon the only thing on my mind was the warm body next to mine and her gentle caresses.

* * * * *

"You can see it from a mile away," I decided, wiping my hands as the last of the Christmas lights were put up around the house. We worried it would be too cold for the bulbs to be outside, as the snow was increasing, so all the strings were inside. I was tempted to dig out my sunglasses every time dad turned on the lights for the Christmas tree. Mom had her Christmas CDs in the player, Bastiaan had hung all the stockings on the mantle… we were ready for Christmas, all right.

Hell, I was afraid we would scare it away.

This was even before the birthday decorations went up.

We got everything finished, when my mom announced she was going to go pick up the cake that night, before the weather got too bad, and before everyone else emptied the shelves. I knew that would mean she'd have to stop in at least three other shops, just to see what they had, and buy much more than a single cake. I guessed they'd be gone for no less than three hours, four with the snow.

The first thing I did when I heard them drive away was dial Kevyn's number.

"Hello?" she answered on the second ring.

"Hey," I said, unable to keep the excitement from my voice, "what are you doing tonight?"

I felt her smile. That sensation hadn't dulled in our time together. "I don't know, I was hoping on spending some time with the dogs, letting them help me wrap presents and such. But I suppose you'll do, too," she teased, and I laughed.

"My parents just went out for a last minute shopping trip. Do you want to come over for a little while?"

"That sounds good, Nikka. I think my dad's been trying to get me out of the house so he can wrap my Christmas gifts, anyhow."

I grinned, told her I'd be over in just a few minutes to pick her up, and set the phone back on the base as my sibling cleared his throat. I looked up at him, and the gaze he offered was kind but cautious.

"Be careful, AJ," he warned.

I shrugged him off. "It's fine, Bastiaan. Mom and dad won't be back for hours, and I'll have Kevyn back long before that. We've done it before. Don't worry so much," I chuckled, rushing to throw my jacket on. My brother said nothing more, but it was his silence that I should have listened to.

* * * * *

I had to assure Kevyn three times before we even got back to my house that it was okay, that I was sure my parents were gone and would be out for a few hours, and that I was sure my brother didn't care, before she seemed to calm down. She was worried that we would be caught, I knew, and that I would get in trouble for it. I had no such concerns, thinking back to how easy it had been the first time.

Bastiaan was up in his room, most likely on the phone with Bobby, so I took Kevyn directly to the living room. We sat near the fire, and I pulled out a bag of marshmallows and some pokers. We laughed when they dropped into the fire, and as I was the first one to have a marshmallow come back charred but intact, I offered it to her on a graham cracker along with some chocolate. My mom couldn't eat it, but she had bought it for me and my brother, anyhow.

She took it from my hand with a smile, and then gave me hers. We continued like that for a short while, until we had both had enough of the sweets to eat any more, and then I put them away. When I returned to the living room, Kevyn had stretched out on the blanket near the fireplace, and I joined her, lying beside her, holding her in my arms.

"Nikka?"

"Yeah?" I replied, softly, pleasantly relaxed, stroking her hair.

Her eyes were closed, and she snuggled deeper into my side. "Thank you."

I blinked. "For what?"

"For being here… for being you."

I smiled. "I can't be anyone else."

I meant it as a slight joke, but she didn't laugh. She kissed my shoulder, and murmured into my ear, "I'm glad," before placing soft kisses on my neck. We had yet to go any further than we had the last time she was in my house, and I was beginning to feel what one might call frustrated. Granted, I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted, I only knew that I was craving more, whatever that meant. Every time I had the chance, I took it, so it wasn't long before I raised my knee so my thigh settled between hers, still loving the gasp that caused.

She moved against me for a moment, which of course meant I felt her thigh against me as well, and moaned into the long kiss we were sharing.

Then, she pulled back, and I bit back a sigh. Wasn't I the one that was supposed to be unsure, the one that kept stopping us? At least, that was what I had gathered from Bastiaan, the nights I'd stayed up with him, asking him to read some of the books he had. Despite the blush it caused, usually for both of us, he didn't skip any parts. It was always the inexperienced one who stood in the way, who pulled away and made the other partner wait. I was sure she couldn't be misinterpreting my actions… so what was going on, here?

Oh, no… she doesn't want me. That's what it is, I knew, at once. She doesn't want to and can't figure out how to tell me.

"Not here, baby," she said, gently, bringing me out of my thoughts just a little. "I don't want our time together spent worrying about getting caught by your parents."

I couldn't help myself. "There's always some excuse," I frowned. "You don't want to rush things, you say I have to go home soon, you're worried about my parents coming home… It doesn't make any sense to me."

She looked at me, carefully, the gold in her eyes reflected by the jumping firelight. I had never spoken to her in such a tone, and she looked hurt. Her quiet just made me sulk even more, and when she didn't respond, I spoke up, again.

"I don't understand why you keep stopping us," I told her, firmly, and saw her look up briefly to locate her jacket. "You're leaving?"

"I think I'd better," she said, in a voice I couldn't recognize, and got to her feet. I sat, still, my back to her as she walked away. It didn't appear to dawn on either of us that I would need to take her home. 

When I heard her footsteps near the door, I said in a small voice that I honestly didn't mean for her to hear, "You don't want me, do you?"

The footsteps stopped, and I heard her jacket fall as she threw it on the couch again, coming back into the living room. She knelt beside me, and when I looked at her, I knew what I'd said still hurt, but there was concern and surprise there, too.

"Is that what you think?" she asked, and I nodded, even though I hadn't meant to tell her. She took my hand in hers and kissed my palm. "Oh, Nikka, that's the farthest thing from the truth, and I'm sorry you have to ask.

"I want you, Annika, very much." With her eyes dark and her breath against my fingers, I could do nothing less than believe her. "But I don't want to rush you, you're right. I know this is new to you, and I promised we'd go at your pace. I don't want to think that I'm pushing you, but I'm afraid if we start more than we have, I won't be able to stop… 

"And, baby, I want it to be perfect. I want us to be together when we won't have any interruptions, when we don't have to worry about anything, when there is only us. Do you understand, sweetheart?"

I nodded, and she pulled me against her in a tight hug. "I'm sorry I got mad at you," I muttered into her shoulder, wrapping my arms around her. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you."

I felt her kiss the top of my head. "I know, Nikka. I think we're both a little frustrated, and I forgot that you might not understand what I meant. I'm sorry you felt like I was just making excuses. Trust me, I do want you." Another kiss, at my temple this time. "And when it happens, it will be worth the wait."

I drove her home not long after that, because she decided she didn't want to chance my parents coming back early. I think she was still hurt by what I had said, and we drove back in silence, though I kept hold of her hand as often as I could. We pulled up, and I leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, again.

She shook her head, kissing my chin gently. "Stop apologizing, baby. I understand and it's all right, okay? Don't worry." I nodded, though I knew I would, still. Long fingers threaded through my own and she squeezed my hand. "We're okay," she assured me, and it was as though that was what I'd been waiting to hear all along. I smiled warmly, and dropped a kiss on her lips before she left the truck and hurried into the house, avoiding the cold snow as much as possible.

Once again, I was able to return home and clean everything up in plenty of time, so my parents would have no reason to think anything was amiss. Bastiaan came downstairs not long after I returned, and was silent, only throwing an occasional glance my way.

"What?" I sighed, at last.

He shook his head slightly. "I just don't think you should be taking chances like that, AJ. You need to be careful. You already know it won't be good if dad finds her here, especially if they catch you together." He was speaking to me gently, as a friend giving advice, but it annoyed me.

"We're fine. You take chances every time you talk about Bobby," I returned, "if you slip up and say "he" instead of "she", that's all it's going to take." I couldn't figure out why I was being so short with everyone just then. "Mom and dad don't suspect anything."

"I hope you're right," was all he said before climbing the stairs again, spending the rest of the night in his room.

My parents came back just over an hour later, and I went to bed right away, telling them I was tired from all the decorating and I'd see them in the morning, I just wanted to make sure they got home safely. I stopped by Bastiaan's door, my hand poised to knock, but then I dropped it. It was late. I'd just have to talk to him in the morning.

* * * * *

Christmas Eve rolled around, and I snuck in a call to Kevyn as I was getting dressed, finding nice clothes to wear to church. Christmas Eve was one of the days we went to the local Methodist church, and I wanted to find out what Kevyn was doing.

She chuckled when I asked, and countered with, "Well, what are you doing, baby?"

I held the phone against my ear with my shoulder as I buttoned my black jeans, and replied, "Going to church."

"So are we, honey. My dad went last weekend, to the Methodist church near Livingston, I guess, and he said it was nice. We always go to a service at least on Christmas Eve. It used to be every Sunday, but we haven't really had a chance to visit any churches since we moved out here."

I grinned. "We're going to the same church," I told her, "maybe we'll see each other there." I had thoughts of even sitting next to her or her family, but no great hopes, so kept it to myself. 

"Maybe. Well I'd better finish getting dressed, baby. If I don't see you before tomorrow, Merry Christmas."

"You too, honey," I said, trusting that my parents were both in their room getting ready and wouldn't hear my conversation. We hung up, then, and I finished getting dressed, wearing a nice sweater although I knew I'd probably have my jacket on most of the evening. It was snowing, albeit lightly, and was quite cold outside. I doubted the church would be much warmer, and dressed accordingly.

There were two services, one at seven and another one later at ten-thirty. We usually went to the earlier service, and this time was no exception, for even as I pulled on my boots, my dad called that it was time to go.

We found a pew in the middle of the church, and took our seats, scanning the program for the evening as we waited for the rest of the congregation to arrive. I was sitting nearest the aisle, and glanced up when I felt someone bump against me. I grinned when I saw Kevyn slide in to the pew across from us. She winked at me, and then turned to make sure her mom was comfortable.

The service started shortly thereafter, with the lighting of the candles, and singing of a few hymns. I was standing close enough to Kevyn that I could pick her voice out of the crowd, and was thrilled. I got to hear the beautiful voice of a wonderful woman off and on for nearly an hour, and though my dad kept glancing at me, I don't think he could figure out why I had a goofy grin plastered across my face.

Neither of my parents noticed that Kevyn was attending the service until the time came to light our candles. As it went, the ushers lit the candle of the person at the end of every row, and then the flame was passed down, everyone tilting their unlit wicks towards the flame of their neighbor. Lighted candles were not tilted, that was the rule. 

My candle was lit before Kevyn's, so I leaned towards her and she was able to reach out and light her own small candle. When I moved back into my seat, I could feel my dad's eyes boring past me, and the sudden downcast shift of sea green eyes told me Kevyn had been the object of his stare.

I sighed under my breath, and everyone looked up when the pastor called for us to begin the singing of "Silent Night". The lights were dimmed, so all that was left was the light of the moon through the stained-glass windows and the flickering dance of our candles. I'll admit the heartfelt singing of the entire church combined with the intimate lighting gave me a chill. The energy was so thick it was almost tangible.

With one bright smile after the interior lights were brought back to their full strength, the candles were extinguished and Kevyn and her family left. I wasn't able to follow after them, as I had no excuse to leave my parents and brother behind. Watching her leave, I knew I had never hated seeing someone walk away from me and enjoyed the view at the same time.

My dad put his hand on my shoulder, and the thought was gone.

"Let's go," he said, a little gruffly, and I wondered if he noticed who I'd been staring at. Nothing else was said, however, and we each greeted the pastor and his wife for a few moments, and made our way back home.

I slept fairly well, and before I knew it, it was Christmas, and my birthday. I took Bastiaan's gifts down with me as I made my way downstairs, placing them in front of the tree or off to the side, accordingly. With the money dad gave me for an allowance, since I helped with the ranch, I'd saved enough to get presents for everyone, Kevyn included, though hers was still up in my room, waiting for the next day when I could give it to her. I was the first one up, and smiled to myself when I realized my parents had been up during the night, adding some last minute birthday decorations.

I threw on my warmest jacket and pulled on my boots, hurrying outside to feed the horses. I would go out on the truck with my dad later on to check on the cattle and make sure they were fed. The horses' winter coats kept them warm, not to mention the blankets we draped across them, and they snorted at me when I hurried back to the house to escape the cold.

Bastiaan was awake next, and sat in the living room. I made two cups of hot chocolate, and offered him one, giving him the one with the biggest marshmallow. I hadn't talked to him since I'd brushed him off.

He took the mug with a small smile, but then turned back to the fire.

"I'm sorry, Bastiaan," I sighed, and he glanced at me. "I shouldn't have talked to you like that, and I don't know why I did. You were only trying to help. I'm just… I don't know. Kevyn and I kind of had an argument, and maybe I was still upset about that. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm sorry. Merry Christmas, and happy birthday, and I don't want to be mad at you anymore," I finished, and he set his cup on the table as he hugged me.

"It's all right, AJ," he said, patting my back. "I wasn't mad at you, just worried about you, you know. And happy birthday to you, too, sis."

And my day started out just like that - wonderful.

Our parents woke up about an hour later, and we already had breakfast made. After eating at the table, we all went into the living room, where the tree had been set up, and opened the Christmas presents first. Mom liked the new watch I got her, because her old one broke a few months before, and dad smiled a little when he saw the warm gloves I'd gotten him. He was always complaining about how thin his old pair was. Bastiaan hugged me tightly, unwrapping the book, sort of a study guide for the BAR exam, which the man at the bookstore said was the entrance exam for lawyers. I had to trust him on it, but apparently, it was right.

Mom got me clothes, as I think is written somewhere in small print in the Mother's Manual. "Must give clothes for special occasions, especially Christmas. Birthdays are okay, too." I swear. Every year, I got a sweater, long underwear… at least socks. I thanked her for the sweat pants, as it was that year, and she smiled.

From Bastiaan came a necklace, which I suspected Bobby helped him pick out, as I'd never known my brother to buy jewelry a day in his life. It was a small sunburst pendant made of emerald, on a gold chain, and we shared a small smile when I realized why he'd chosen that stone. It was deep and beautiful, like Kevyn's eyes.

Maybe he'd chosen it himself, after all.

Then came my dad's present. He looked at me carefully for a moment, and then handed me the box, which was rather heavy. I unwrapped it with ease, and paused when I saw it was the box for the starter logs for the fireplace. He laughed, and promised that wasn't what was inside, so I shook my head and opened the box. There, stacked neatly, were no less than a dozen CDs, and as I scanned the front brochures, Bastiaan reading them as I pulled them out, I recognized them all to be from artists that I had mentioned in passing but hadn't thought anyone noticed. Names that I knew my dad didn't approve of me listening to, but he'd bought them anyhow, knowing I liked them.

I glanced at him, seeing the love in his eyes, and hugged him fiercely. We may have fought, he didn't like who I hung around with, and he was afraid I was going to get hurt, Bastiaan and Kevyn were right. But, still, I loved him, and he loved me. It might not always seem like it, but I knew it was true. For all the punishments I'd received and the times I didn't think he liked me, under it all, I was sure he had always loved me.

"Thanks, Dad," I said, and he kissed my cheek.

"I love you, AJ." See? I told you. "Merry Christmas."

"Love you, too, Dad." I squeezed him harder.

The birthday gifts brought a matching sweatshirt from mom, a sketching book from Bastiaan - though I wouldn't be able to read it all, I could still go by the pictures - and a bit of paperwork from Dad. This, I had been expecting. All the little "x"s that my dad had highlighted were places I needed to sign, or initial, or have him read to me and then sign. This would put me on as joint owner to the land, along with my parents. We would spend even more time together, I knew, going over the land and the boundaries, ways to handle this and that. He would help me through it all, taking me with him if he went to talk to people about more land, about selling land, or anything about the stock. I would be even more involved, but that was fine with me.

I looked at the stack of papers with satisfaction, once they'd all been signed. Dad had already dated them all for me. I couldn't have imagined a better birthday.

The rest of the day passed with loads of food and cake and ice cream, which my mom splurged and ate a small amount of. I was thrilled to have her celebrate with us. Then came the gifts for the dogs, cats, and Hamlet - yes, don't laugh, we got them all gifts, too - and laughed as we watched Hamlet talk to his reflection in the new mirrored-toy, or the dogs enjoy the chew bones as they laid next to our feet in the living room, too distracted to worry about the cats as they batted the ball around. 

It was the first time in a long time that the whole house felt happy and relaxed, I think, and I wish now that I would have soaked up every moment of it, and locked it away somewhere.

* * * * *

I stopped by Stacey's for a few minutes later that night, and we exchanged our gifts. I laughed at the small stuffed animal she'd given me - that was about as predictable from her as clothes were from my mom - and she seemed to like the key chain. She collected key chains, as well as stuffed animals, and coins, and stamps. I always told her she had too many hobbies, but she never agreed.

"So, how are things going with Kevyn, muffin?" she asked, adding the trinket to her collection, as I held the small bear on my lap.

I smiled. "Good. Hey, cupcake, can I ask a favor from you?" Stacey nodded, and helped me work on Kevyn's Christmas gift, asking for more details about how my first relationship was going. "Everything's fine," I said when we'd finished, and then told her a little of how I'd been stupid and hurt her, but she just patted my knee.

"Everyone has their moments, sweetie. I know you feel bad, but don't worry about it too much if she doesn't, all right?" I nodded that I would try. "She's a wonderful girl, AJ, I'm sure she's already forgiven you." She hugged me as I walked to the door. "You just take care of her, and have fun!" 

There was that damned suggestive tone again, though she saw me blush this time, and laughed. I left her, then, and promised to call before New Year's. Then it was back to my house, where I slept for a few hours, unable to wait until the next day when I would be able to see Kevyn.

Bastiaan was gone when I got back; mom said he wanted to spend the night with his girlfriend, and I simply nodded. I wished I could claim a boyfriend, and go stay with Kevyn. But, I resigned myself to sleeping alone in my room, and climbed the stairs, wondering what the redhead was doing just then, if she was thinking about me, as I was her.

My sleep that night was filled again with dreams, where I found myself on the same bridge as before. I wasn't quite sure why it was in the middle of Montana, with no water to cover, but it was a dream, and you don't question things in a dream. They just are. 

Kevyn was on the opposite side, once more, and though I called her name, she didn't come any closer. I walked towards her, and the bridge began to shake and sway, and I gripped at the sides, frightened. Her voice drifted to me, then, telling me not to be afraid. She wouldn't let me fall. All I had to do was trust her. It would be all right.

I trusted her. I knew I did. But taking another step only made the bridge seem even more unstable, and I refused to take any more. She would have to come to me, and then we could walk across together, I called to her. This offer seemed to surprise her, but before she could answer, the shaking became so fierce that I turned and left. When my feet were back on solid ground, I turned around, but the bridge, and Kevyn, were gone.

I cried out, in my dream or in my sleep I don't know, but she didn't come back. The bridge didn't reappear, and she didn't reply to my shouts. There was nothing, then, but me and the open land, just the way I used to like it.

Only now, I felt terribly alone and empty.

I woke up, trembling, and realized my pillow was damp. I thought perhaps I'd worked myself into a cold sweat, but it was then that I realized I'd been crying in my sleep. I took a shaky breath, but didn't fall back asleep for quite a while.


	3. Part Three

Chapter Fourteen

 

When I awoke the next time, it was morning, and though mom had breakfast ready, Bastiaan hadn't returned yet. That wasn't like him. I guessed he just got a little preoccupied with Bobby, and lost track of time… 

Eewwww.

I pushed the image that brought forth into the deepest corner of my mind, never ever to be thought of again even under threat of death, and wandered downstairs in my socked feet. The idea of your brother having sex is just not something you need any time of the day, much less first thing in the morning, right before breakfast.

"Morning, mom," I said, kissing her cheek as I sat at the table.

"Good morning, AJ. Your father's already eaten and is out taking care of the horses, and Bastiaan isn't home yet, so it's just us this morning."

I grinned. "Okay."

"Tell me something," she said, after a few minutes, and I started, but agreed. "You've met Bobbi, haven't you?"

"Yeah," I confirmed, as I remembered how to breathe. I felt sure she was going to ask me something about Kevyn, that I hadn't been as careful as I thought, that she'd found out… but, no, she was only asking about my brother.

"Yeah, I met her," the word sounded strange in my mouth, as I knew it to be a lie, but continued on, "she seems really nice. And she really likes Bastiaan."

She seemed to look a little more at ease. I guessed she'd been worried about that. "I just wonder why he hasn't brought her home, yet," she mused, and I shrugged as I finished my cereal, and stood.

"I'm sure he will soon." Suddenly I just couldn't lie to her anymore. If she asked me anything else, I was sure to tell her the truth about Bobby, or Kevyn, or both of them. I rinsed my bowl in the sink, and told her I was going to go see how Diane was doing, and how Kevyn's Christmas had been. Mom asked if I would be back soon, and I said I didn't think so.

I called Kevyn from my room as I got dressed, putting on several layers, as the radio DJ forecasted the weather to only get worse as the day progressed, and mentioned to her that my mom said it was okay if I went over.

"Be careful driving, baby," was all she said, and I heard paper rustling in the background, and figured she was busy.

"See you in a few minutes," I promised, hanging up and slipping on my jacket before grabbing her gift and heading out the door. The main road had been cleared by the plow, and was still a little slippery, but the chains on the tires did fine, and I was standing at the front step of the Gibb's residence just about twenty minutes after I'd told my mom I was leaving.

I had barely rung the doorbell when the door opened and Kevyn literally pulled me inside, exclaiming, "Get in here out of that cold, baby." I chuckled, and wrapped my arms around her in a hello hug. She returned the embrace, and kissed my cheek, leading me to her room.

"I was wrapping this when you called," she said, and when I saw the large package on her bed, I instantly felt bad. The gift I'd gotten her was small enough to fit in my pocket, and here was this big present she'd gotten for me… 

Her laugh was gentle, her eyes bright as she tugged on my hand and pulled me down to sit beside her. "Well, are you going to open it, sweetheart?"

I nodded, and removed the paper, revealing a beautiful case full of pastels and charcoals and colored pencils. I sat in silence for a moment, just staring, and then looked up to see that she was anxiously awaiting my response, biting her lip softly.

"It's wonderful, honey," I said, honestly, and kissed her. "Thank you so much. I love it."

"That's your birthday present," she explained, telling me, "I know you don't think much of your work, baby, but I do. And I asked my dad what to get an aspiring artist, and this was his suggestion."

I blushed at the praise, and was about to give her the small present I'd bought for her, when she handed me a card in an envelope.

"And this is your Christmas gift. It's just a card, I know, but…"

My heart was pounding as I looked at the beige envelope in my hand. How did I get out of this one? I tried the first thing that came to my mind.

"I'm sure it's perfect, and I'll open it later, honey. Right now, I…"

"Oh, Nikka, will you open it now, please?"

I bowed my head, and carefully tore open the envelope, giving her a small grin as I did, hoping she would take the subtle hint that I would rather not read it right now. When I made a comment about, "Okay, I opened it," she laughed and bumped my knee with hers.

"Silly. Go on, read it."

It almost felt as though the card burned my fingers as I removed it. Seeing the beautiful snow scene on the front, I opened it to find typed words on one side, and flowing letters from Kevyn's hand on the other.

"I can't read this," I swallowed, after glancing at them for a moment. Given enough time, I could probably make out what was written by the card company, but cursive was the worst for me. It was so hard to differentiate the letters when I couldn't even pick them apart, figuring out where one began and the other ended.

She chuckled at me again, taking one of my hands in both of hers. "Come on, I know my handwriting's not that bad," she smiled, and I pulled my hand away, feeling ill. She paused, and looked at me. "Nikka?"

"I can't read this," I said, again. I took a breath. 

"It's no different then the letters…" she began, but I couldn't let her finish.

I sprang to my feet with a soft cry, and admitted, "I can't read those either!"

Her tone was flat, and I couldn't tell whether it was with pity or anger, but I would soon find out. "What?"

My chest felt heavy and I knew I was close to crying. "I'm dyslexic, Kevyn. I haven't read any of your letters you've sent. I might be able to read what's typed on the card, but it would take me a long time, and even if I had a week, I probably wouldn't be able to read what you wrote here."

Green eyes just stared at me, and I couldn't read her expression. I think that scared me more than anything.

"Then how did you know what I've written before?"

I ducked my head. "Bastiaan. He reads things for me."

"Your brother has been reading everything I've written for you?" Now I could read nothing from her voice except anger, and nodded, closing my eyes. "How long were you going to keep this from me?" And then, I opened my eyes long enough to see green lightning aimed at me as she spat, "I hope Bastiaan got a kick out of reading those letters that I meant for only you!"

I flinched. "Kevyn…"

She held her hand up, and I fell quiet. "No, don't talk to me. I don't even want to see you right now, Annika." I knew without a doubt that if I left, I'd never see her again. I was so sure that it was over. That was the last thing I wanted to happen, so even as my heart pulled painfully at the harshness of her words, I kneeled beside her.

"Kevyn, please…"

"Just don't."

Now I could feel the tears as they ran down my face. She wouldn't even look at me. I clutched at her hand, but she drew away from me. "Kevyn," I choked, begging.

"Go." She looked at me then, and I felt my heart break for the pain in her eyes, the pure betrayal. "Please, go." She turned away, again, but I saw the first tear as it fell, and sat back on my heels.

I swallowed, though my throat was dry, and I nearly started coughing. "Don't make me go, Kevyn," I pleaded. "Please, I'm so sorry, let me stay. I don't want to lose you."

She stood so suddenly that I fell backwards. "You should have thought of that before you lied to me," she cried, taking the card from the desk where I had lain it down and throwing it across to the other end of the room. I felt it hit the wall deep in my soul, as though it had been a blow to my chest.

Finally understanding that there was nothing I could do to make it better, I scrambled out of her room and ran to my truck. I was in no condition to drive, and even if I could have left, I couldn't have gone home. My mom would take one look at me and demand to know what was wrong, and I couldn't tell her. My brother was out with the one he loved, I'd just lost mine, and I couldn't even find comfort with my own mother. 

I slumped against the steering wheel and cried.

I cried, and cried, until I remembered my dream of the night before. What had I just done? I'd turned and walked away. All this time, she'd been asking me to trust her, and I didn't. I didn't think I could. And now I'd left.

I'm going to go back and she's going to be gone, I know it, I sobbed. I'll never see her again, never hold her, never kiss her, and it's all my fault.

But I had to try.

I didn't even bother knocking on the door. I had no idea if Diane was asleep or if Patrick was home, but all I knew was I had to see Kevyn, had to talk to her. I walked down the hall to her room and tried the knob, but she'd locked the door.

I knocked.

I heard her sniffling, but other than that, there was no reply.

I knocked again. "Kevyn?" I had to show her that I did trust her. I had to take that step, and keep walking. There was no other option.

"No, Annika. Just leave me alone."

"I can't," I admitted, leaning my forehead against the wood. "I can't go. Please, don't ask me to leave. You said I could always talk to you, honey, please, let me talk now. I know I should have told you sooner, but can I explain? Kevyn, please?"

In a moment, she unlocked the door and opened it, and I met her gaze, both of our eyes red and swollen. She was clutching my shirt to her chest, and my knees nearly went out from under me at the amount of hurt and sadness that filled her eyes.

"I'm sorry," was all I could say at the moment, and she just blinked up at me. "Can I… can I talk to you? I want to tell you everything, honey. No more secrets, no more lying, I swear."

She still didn't say anything, but walked inside, pulled out her desk chair, and then sat on her bed. I assumed the chair was for me, and closed the door before sinking into it. Taking a deep breath, I kept my promise, and told her everything.

I told her how, when I was young, I was always getting in trouble, both at home and at school, for being disruptive. The teachers said I bothered the other kids, I talked in class when I was supposed to be listening, and often I'd be drawing pictures rather than taking notes. When this information was sent home to my parents, I got in trouble at home, too.

Of course, all this just made me even more frustrated. It seemed like the teacher always called on me for the hard parts of the story to read, and when I asked the kids next to me for help, I got in trouble. If I tried to sound out the words, the teachers became impatient, even if they tried not to show it, and the others laughed at my struggles with what they found to be so simple. When the letters switched on me, and I pronounced the wrong word correctly, more snickers followed, and I always blushed.

My parents wanted to help me study at home, and my brother tried too, but too much studying and reading and trying to get my spelling lists right only lead to headaches. The more my head hurt, the more irritable I became, and my parents started murmuring to each other when they thought I couldn't hear, "Why isn't she more like Bastiaan?"

This went on for several years, until my fifth grade teacher finally called me to stay after school one day, and gave me a small book, asking me to read from it. At first I refused, but when she insisted, I huffed a sigh and stared at the pages. I could make out a few words before I got tired of it and pushed the book away in anger. It was enough, though, and she called a meeting with my parents, telling them she wondered if I might have a learning problem. She noticed, she said, that I played well with the other children, and that during recess I often stayed in the room to create things with the building blocks, or to draw quietly in my seat. The other teachers that had marked me as disruptive and one that caused problems just hadn't taken the time to really look at me.

I was ten before my parents took me to be tested, and sure enough, the doctors or whoever they were said I was dyslexic. When my mom explained it to me, she said that it meant I didn't read things the same way as other people, and sometimes the letters would switch places, and I had a hard time remembering how to spell words… it was like all the things I'd been having trouble with suddenly found a name, and I wasn't just stupid, after all.

Special programs and teachers were employed at that point, and I struggled through classes for another year, until sixth grade. I just gave up. The kids were still cruel and didn't want to understand, and the few friends I had made no attempt at encouraging me to stay. They knew I wanted out, and why, and wanted it to happen. I wasn't happy in school. My only memories were of teasing, headache, heartaches, and being sent to time-out for something I couldn't overcome.

I tried my best, and my parents saw that. They also saw that my life wasn't in books. I just wasn't like my brother, that's all there was to it. He would be the book smart twin, the one that went on to do bigger and better things, but me? All I wanted in life was at the ranch. I had no dreams beyond working with the horses and keeping my dogs company, and I was happy with that.

So, I finished sixth grade, but never went on to seventh. I left school to help my dad with the ranch, learning from him, and beginning to genuinely smile again. I felt most comfortable on the land, with the animals. It wasn't as though I was isolated; I had a few friends that I kept in touch with from school, though in the end, Stacey was the only one who I truly called "friend". The others moved away without so much as a new address or simply drifted out of my life.

My dad came home with Hamlet, about a month after I'd been out of school. He became my best companion, since most of my time was spent at home. I could pretend to read to him, and he didn't know any different, he didn't laugh. I talked with him often, and was thrilled when I discovered I could teach him to speak. 

"I can read and write a little," I said, still running my mouth to Kevyn, "but not much. My dad will read the newspaper to me sometimes, but usually I just listen to the radio or watch the news on TV. I do okay with math, especially if I don't have to look at the numbers, if I can work them in my head. My brain just processes things differently, you know."

Here I sighed, lightly. "I didn't want to tell you, because most people don't understand, and I get treated differently for it. And I didn't want you to pity me. You're so smart, Kevyn, so intelligent and good with school, I didn't want to say anything and make you think less of me. But I should have told you. Bastiaan told me right away that I should have told you. I'm sorry."

I had moved steadily closer to her the whole time I was talking, and now sat quite near her on the bed. 

"I still don't want you to feel bad for me; I just want you to understand. You deserve to understand. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before," I said, and just kept staring at the place where the card had fallen. The redhead beside me was still silent, and I knew that I had done all I could, and failed. My first relationship, with the most wonderful person I could ever imagine, the only relationship I wanted, and I'd screwed it up. And the day after Christmas, no less.

The tears came back. "I'm sorry I ruined us," I managed to say, and made a move as if to get to my feet so I could just slink away and Kevyn would never have to look at me again, but then I felt her hand on my arm.

She was looking at me, really seeing me, I mean, for the first time in probably two hours. I paused, not wanting to do anything to make her turn away again.

"One fight… and you think it's over?"

My heart gave a painful thud of hope. I started shaking. "It isn't? We aren't?"

"No, baby." She drew me close, and I cried into her shoulder, realizing that it was the first time she'd held me as I sobbed, instead of vice versa. For all her small size, I felt safer than I would have ever thought, and tried to get my breathing under control as she rubbed my back.

"Are you okay?" she asked, kissing my forehead when I'd stopped shaking. I kept her hand held tightly in mine, and nodded, just slightly. "Hey, talk to me, beautiful. Are you all right?"

I sniffled. "I thought…"

Though once I started talking she didn't let me finish. "I know," she interrupted, gently. "I'm sorry I scared you."

I shook my head. "It was my fault. I'm sorry."

She smiled softly and I almost started crying all over again. I leaned into her touch when she brushed my cheek with the back of her hand, saying, "How about we're both sorry, and we declare this argument over?"

"That sounds good," I nodded, and hesitantly reached over to pick up the card from the floor. Handing it to her, I requested, quietly, "Will you tell me what you wrote?"

Not taking the card from me, she motioned for me to open it, and I did, slightly confused. Did she expect me to try to sound it out and try to read it in front of her? 

No. She leaned close to me, instead, resting her chin on my shoulder, telling me the words in a soft tone.

"Nikka," she began, "this has been one of the most enjoyable Christmases I've ever had, and I have you to thank for it. You mean so much to me, baby. I know you're scared; my feelings for you are stronger than your fears. Trust me. Trust me, and I won't ever let you fall. I promise. Always, Kevyn."

I wrapped an arm around her and hugged her to me so tightly I was sure I'd never let go. Her words, so close to the ones I'd imagined her saying in my dream and the words her mother had said just a few days before, were almost eerie, and yet exactly what I needed to hear.

"I trust you," I said, and that was enough. 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

We spent the next several hours just talking, lying on her bed side by side, holding hands, holding each other, as we emptied our souls. I'd never imagined that there was someone out there that I could tell anything and everything to, that I could trust with all my secrets, someone that would want to know.

But, here she was. Listening. Really listening, because she cared. She said she wanted to know everything about me, anything I wanted to tell her. There was nothing that could make her turn away, she promised.

So, I told her everything. I told her how I used to be jealous of my brother, the time I got caught trying to steal something from the store when I was eight (the first and last time I went into that store), and how I'd love to be able to read like she and my brother could. I explained that I'd never been in a relationship before her, and tried to put words to all the feelings, worry and fear and joy and everything else. I told her what Stacey had said, back when I had gone to her for help.

Finally, I even admitted what thoughts had caused my attitude with her the few nights before, regarding our intimacy, or my perceived lack thereof.

She kissed my shoulder, and said, "Life isn't written from a book, sweetheart. We all make our own chapters, with our own reasons and our own experiences." She moved out from under me, then - I'd been lying in her arms - and got to her feet. My instant thought was to panic, but quelled that urge when she turned and ran her fingers through my hair.

"Stay here, baby. I'll be right back, I promise."

I nodded, and while she was gone, took the time to look around her room. The first night I'd been here, when she'd taken me down the hall to introduce me to the dogs, I had only glanced around briefly. I'd seen her desk, which, while much like mine, was used for writing instead. I'd seen her bed, with the thick comforter that I was sure kept her warm; indeed, that I had pulled to her chin a few times as I tucked her in.

Now, taking a better look, I saw a few knick knacks setting on her desk, or bookcase, and some sort of colorful chain hanging from the light of her ceiling fan. Several pictures had been tacked up on the corkboard on the wall above the bookcase, and I assumed they were of her friends from California. A calendar was next to it, open to January, already, with pictures that piqued my interest. It was mostly black and white, various scenes, but then the stripes of the zebra, or the steps of the path, were painted in a sudden splash of rainbow.

I liked it, and made a mental note to ask Kevyn where she'd gotten it.

A few posters covered the rest of her walls, two of a young blonde woman in a rather skimpy costume, though she was very attractive. She looked a little similar to Kevyn, I thought, but would need the fiery red hair and deep green-gold eyes to come close. The others showed a woman with dark hair, wearing leather and armor, although there was one with her clad in some gold armor that covered less than the blonde's outfit. If my eyes and hair were a little darker, I mused, we wouldn't look that different.

Kevyn returned then, and chuckled when she saw the posters that had my gaze. The tray of crackers, cheese, and vegetables she'd carried in was set on the small table by the bed.

"I thought you might be a little hungry," was her explanation, and I had her sit beside me on the bed before we started snacking.

While we ate, it was her turn to talk. She told me that she'd been dating girls for about two years before she came out to her parents, but they were very supportive and even told her they'd known for a while. The times she would come home upset and blame it on a bad day at school, they both knew it was a break-up. All this, and they never confronted her, they just let her tell them when she was ready.

She called that being lucky, and I had to agree.

She'd always done fairly well in school, and after she got her associates, she told me of her plans to go on and try to make a career out of her writing as she continued college. She'd been writing since she was young; little things, articles for the school paper, then a few for the local paper, and a few of her poems had been accepted into magazines.

"I know you can do it," I assured her, and then asked if she might read me some of the things she'd written. She said she would. I realize now, it never happened.

Then came her relationship history, which she said she told me not to make me jealous, and if I started comparing myself to any of them she was going to stop talking right then, but she wanted me to understand. How could I say no? I only wanted the same thing.

"The first few girls I dated were only interested in experimenting," she said, and I frowned to myself. "Our relationships never lasted very long. Still, it was hard on me when we broke up, and it wasn't long after I came out to my parents that I just stopped looking… 

"Then, in my junior year of high school, I met Tamara. We were both in speech class, and the teacher paired us up for practice a few minutes every day. We started talking before and after class, and then, I was inviting her to the movies and she was asking me to dinner. Everyone in class knew, soon, and while the teacher didn't care, a few of the other students gave us strange looks at first.

"We were together well into my senior year, and then, I don't know, it's like everything started going wrong all at once. I started my night classes at the college the same week mom was diagnosed, and I spent three days in a row calling Tamara, trying to get a hold of her since I took a few days out of school to go to doctor visits and such with my mom. But she never returned my calls. The following week when I was back in class, a mutual friend from speech pulled me aside beforehand, and told me we needed to talk.

"She said that while I'd been gone, Tamara had been all over Lucas, the football player that was sitting in class for credits. I didn't want to believe her. I told her she was just jealous, and wasn't being very kind. But then I walked in, and I guess no one was expecting me back so soon, as they'd all heard, because they looked surprised to see me. Even Lucas and the teacher looked shocked, but Tamara just stared at me from where she was sitting, draped across Lucas' lap.

"And started laughing. She laughed, and laughed, and I finally figured out that wasn't the first time she'd been with Lucas. Or a number of other guys, I learned later."

I was furious, and interrupted her story. "Why would she do that?"

The gentle voice caught a little, and I realized this still hurt her. "Because she could," was the only answer she could come up with. "I don't know. Lucas didn't know about us, but the others did, and they would joke about how 'hung-up' I was with Tamara, and start taking bets on how long it would take me to figure it out. Everything that I said to her, all the things I thought were private and just between us… she joked about with everyone once I left the room."

I suddenly understood why she had been so angry when I'd told her Bastiaan had read the letters, and hugged her to me with all my strength.

"Baby, it's all right," she smiled against my cheek, knowing the reason for my embrace. "It's not the same thing at all. But, you know, now."

I nodded, moving the tray of food away so I could kiss her, and kiss her deeply enough to take the hurtful memories away, at least for a little while. It worked, or at least, we stopped talking for a time, and it didn't take long before we found ourselves in a familiar position.

She didn't pull away, this time, nor did she ask me if I was sure. She was right, life wasn't at all like books. She trusted me enough to tell her if I was uncertain, just as I trusted her enough not to have to say a word. Her parents must have been out, I hadn't heard anything from either of them all day, and the door was closed. We'd talked ourselves out, there was nothing left between us that could be said in words.

All this passed in a single instant as I looked into her eyes, and she went to kiss me again, pressing gently with her thigh until I couldn't keep track of what she was doing. Was she kissing my lips, my neck, my shoulders…? I wasn't sure. There was this burning and tingling all over my body that I had no chance of narrowing down. My hands moved up her sides, without my realizing quite what I was doing, until I heard her give a gasp that was half-moan, and felt my hands brush against her breasts as the pressure between my legs increased.

And then I was removing her shirt, and kissing whatever skin I could reach, trembling for the second time that day. Suddenly, my own pleasure, easing the throbbing I felt, wasn't nearly that important. I just wanted to hear that sound from her throat again. I moved until she was beneath me, and kissed her neck in the way I knew she liked, and kept moving down her throat, to her chest, until her sighs and moans were indistinguishable from my own, and all I knew was that there was nothing beyond this. 

Somehow, some time later, we were both under the covers - I was right, the comforter was very warm - while our clothes occupied various spots on the floor. She was curled up against my side, both of us quite pleasantly exhausted. I began to wonder if there was something wrong with me, however. I barely had the energy to open my eyes and glance at the clock, seeing it was nearly five in the evening, and yet, every time her breath caressed my neck, I felt it much further down. 

I groaned to myself. This couldn't be possible. I was too tired to think about moving, and yet all I wanted to do was make love to her again. 

Her fingers began tracing my stomach, suddenly, and my muscles jumped.

She chuckled, kissing my arm. "Some deep thoughts up there, sweetheart?"

I blushed, though she couldn't see me, and simply kissed the top of her head.

"What are you thinking about?" she insisted, gently, and I wondered if she might be worried that I was having second-thoughts, that I was having regrets. 

The first thing that came to my mind to reassure her, making it past my lips before I could censor it, was, "I love you." My breath caught, and I waited for her response. She raised herself up on her elbow, eyes that were nearly all green as she looked at me, seriously, before kissing my lips.

"I love you, too, Nikka." We kissed again, and it was a little while later when she commented, "This necklace is beautiful," referring to my gift from Bastiaan. I was sure she'd noticed it before, but was too distracted to mention it just then.

I smiled, rubbing her knee, which was draped over my own leg. "Bastiaan got it for me." An idea struck me, and I reached my arm down to the floor, stretching to grab my jeans from where they'd fallen. Digging into my pocket, I withdrew the small box, and handed it to her with a sheepish grin.

"Merry Christmas."

She laughed a little as she unwrapped it. Seeing the small jewelry box, she glanced up at me, almost warily. I wasn't sure what she was thinking, but urged her to open it. With one last look to me, she opened the lid, and took a breath when she saw the locket. I hoped that was a good sign.

"It's a locket," I explained rather needlessly, in my fear that she wouldn't like it, "you can open it and put two pictures inside." Of course, she opened it just then and looked, seeing that I'd already put a photo on either side. I squirmed under the intense gaze that followed. "Your mom gave me the picture," I said, referring to the one of her father and mother, taken before the cancer hit, and it was obvious that Kevyn looked very much like Diane, "and Stacey let me scan it on her computer." The one on the opposite side was of me, from the same picture she'd seemed so taken with on the mantle.

"But you can put whatever you want in it," I rambled, "and, um, I think I still have the receipt if…"

I felt fine red hair brush against my cheek as she hugged me. "It's beautiful, baby. Now I can carry my favorite people close to my heart, always. Will you help me put it on?" I did, with fingers that were still shaking a little, and set the box aside, by our half-empty tray of food.

I'm not exactly sure when we fell asleep after that, I only know that when I woke up, it was dark outside. A glance at the clock did me no good, as the power must have gone off due to the storm, and was now flashing numbers at me that I knew couldn't be right. Being careful not to bother Kevyn, who was still sleeping, I raised my arm and looked at my watch.

I sighed to myself, and Kevyn shifted, snuggling deeper into my side, her head on my right shoulder, arm thrown across my chest to the other, legs entangled in mine. I had no idea how I'd slept, much less so comfortably. But, I had.

Until eight-thirty at night.

The last thing I wanted to do was leave… ever. But I knew I'd have to go sometime, and my parents would probably be worried if I didn't at least call soon. Maybe I could claim a late dinner and stay a little longer.

When I started looking around for my clothes, a voice mumbled against my chest, "You're not leaving, are you?"

I kissed the top of her head. "It's late, honey. I at least have to call my parents, and the idea of walking around your house naked is not high on my list of things to do tonight," I joked, and she kissed my neck.

"But it's first on mine," she grinned, and laughed softly at my blush, continuing to kiss me until I very nearly decided to forget what I had to do.

"Kevyn," I ground out, reluctantly stopping her, and she sighed dramatically.

"You're no fun," she pouted.

I couldn't resist. Leaning down to kiss her nose, I teased, "Oh, really?"

It was her turn to blush, and I smiled gently before sitting up, holding the covers to my chest. Now, how did one go about searching a room for one's clothes, without walking around completely naked, first?

Kevyn got to her feet before I had come to a solution, and tossed a robe in my direction. I put it on, realizing too late that it was her size, and raised an amused eyebrow at her. The sleeves barely reached my elbows, and the end just covered my knees.

She thought it was the funniest thing she'd seen, and almost couldn't tie the belt to her own robe, she was laughing so hard. I didn't think it was all that comical, and as I walked past her to pick up my shirt, I tugged on one end of the belt, undoing her robe and letting it fall open.

The playful smack to my rear end was something I was not expecting, and I yelped at the contact, spinning around.

"You…" I growled, wrapping an arm around her. She didn't seem the least bit scared, however, and happily kissed my chin. One kiss turned into two, and two into seven, and… well… you know. She was making it very difficult for me to want to leave, and I told her as much.

"That was the idea, sweetheart."

I shook my head at her, taking a small step back before I could stop myself. How on earth was I going to survive around this woman? I didn't know. Could you spontaneously combust from passion? I think Kevyn wanted to find out.

By the time I managed to get fully dressed, almost an hour had passed. Kevyn walked into the living room with me when I went to get the phone, and when I mentioned that I hadn't seen either of her parents that day, she chuckled and said that was because they weren't in.

"Mom said she wanted to get out of the house, so Dad made hotel reservations for tonight. I know she's probably just sleeping, but I'm glad she wanted to get out some. That's a good sign." I kissed her shoulder, agreeing, and motioned for her to be quiet as I called my mom.

"Hello?" I winced when my dad answered.

"Hi, dad, it's me," I said, and Kevyn watched my face as I spoke.

"AJ," he sighed, "it's late. You missed dinner."

I nodded. "I know, but I told mom I wasn't sure when I'd be back. I'm sorry I didn't call before, I just lost track of the time when the power went out."

"You come on home now, AJ. We've got a lot to do around here in the next few days. I don't think you'll have time to see that girl for a while," he said, and I looked at the woman beside me, who raised an eyebrow, wondering what was being said on the other end of the line.

"But, dad, I…"

"No. Dinner's waiting."

Click.

It took me a moment to realize that he'd hung up on me, and I let out a heavy sigh.

"My dad says I have to go," I told Kevyn, putting the phone back on the coffee table, and she slipped her fingers through mine. "I don't think I'll be able to see you for a couple days, he says we have 'a lot to do'."

I felt her kiss my shoulder. "All right, baby. Call me when you can." I was surprised she was so calm about not being able to see each other. I was angry with my dad, though I knew I couldn't show it, because as far as my parents were concerned, I didn't have a reason to be upset. Kevyn was just my friend. How was a few days working on the ranch going to interfere with a friendship?

I nuzzled her neck. "I'm sorry."

"Baby, it's all right," she repeated, running her fingers through my hair. "I'm going to miss you like crazy, and my bed's going to feel awful empty, but I understand. Much as I'd love it, I can't have you all to myself," she smiled, and I sighed, again.

I wanted that, too.

"Maybe if my dad is happy with whatever it is we have to do in the next little while, they'll let me spend New Year's over here," I mused, and Kevyn kissed the edge of my jaw. 

"There you go, sweetheart. Now, go on and get home. The sooner you get everything done over there, the sooner we can be together again," was her rationale, and I had to agree.

"I love you," I said, and kissed her.

"And I love you, Nikka. Drive safely. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Have a good night, and sweet dreams."

I didn't blush at that comment, but responded with a smile, "You better believe it. Sleep well, honey." I made sure I had my gift and card from her, and hadn't left anything behind, and then I was walking out the door into the snow. The storm was packing a heavy punch, and it took me a while to get home, even with the four-wheel drive and chains on the tires.

Whatever dad had planned for the next while, I knew it wouldn't include much time outside, though regardless of what we were doing, I had a feeling the only thing my mind would be focused on would be getting back to Kevyn as soon as possible.

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

I was right. Dad and I spent almost the entire week inside, going over more paperwork, as he explained to me the "ins and outs" of running the ranch. I knew about the animals, but he went into more detail about the boundaries of our land, dealings with the vet if any of the animals were sick, breeding the horses… My brain was on overload after just a few hours. I knew it took a lot to run the ranch, but I had no idea it was all so complicated.

I was glad I wouldn't have to worry about everything by myself. He offered scenario after scenario to see what I would do if I had to take care of it, and seemed pleased with my answers. Then I learned the cost of everything, how to arrange the prices so we made a profit, and so on.

It wasn't until the third day that I got a chance to call Kevyn. Every other night after my dad and I were finished in the den, I just fell into bed, too exhausted to even dream. When I did call her, the conversation only lasted a few minutes before she told me to hang up and go to sleep, threatening to hang up on me if I didn't.

"I just miss you," I protested, with a yawn that I couldn't hide.

"I know, baby, and I miss you, too. But you need your sleep, all right? We'll talk again tomorrow, or whenever you get a chance. I love you."

"I love you, too." And then the line was dead. I returned the phone to its base and realized she was right, I was too tired to talk. Three minutes later, I was sound asleep.

New Year's Eve came around, and I asked my mom that afternoon if I could stay the night with Kevyn. Her mom wasn't doing too well, the cancer was spreading, which was true, although I was the only one who knew it, and said I wanted to be there for her. The idea of a girl as young as Kevyn losing her mother pulled at my own mom's heart, I knew, and she gave in.

"All right, AJ," she nodded, "you can go. Just come back early in the morning, okay? I'd like your help in making breakfast." I promised I'd be back in plenty of time, and called Kevyn before rushing out the door, zipping my heavy coat as I went, trying to fend off the cold of the snow. It had been sprinkling a light snow continuously for the past two days, and was supposed to get even worse by the end of the week. There was no sign of the storm ending for some time, reported the weatherman on the radio.

I had dinner with the Gibb's, cooking for them again, a meal which they all said they enjoyed. Diane was smiling even more than usual, and though she seemed to be weaker, I noticed a glow about her. I thought maybe she was doing better, and that certainly brought my spirits up. She ate quite a bit of the meal, which made Patrick and Kevyn happy.

I cleared the table, and everyone else went into the living room to listen to the countdown and watch the ball drop. I brought in a few glasses of eggnog after I was done, and sat on the floor beside Kevyn, while her mother and father sat on the couch, all of us enjoying the company immensely. We brought the New Year in with a soft kiss, mindful of her parents just beside us, though if we would have cared to look, I'm sure they were doing the same.

Diane went to bed directly after that; honestly, I was surprised she had managed to stay up until midnight. Kevyn told me later that she had slept until just before I came, because she wanted to stay up through the countdown.

I was a little tired myself, and had told Kevyn already that my mom wanted me home early the next morning, so we turned in a few minutes after her parents. I changed in the bathroom, and walked into the bedroom wearing my usual flannel pants and A-shirt, finding that Kevyn was already under the blankets. I slipped in beside her, intent on only sleeping as it seemed that she was tired.

Her hands moved and I quickly realized she didn't want to sleep. We made love, quietly because her parents were home this time, but it was still just as amazing. Trying not to be too loud, as we were, the small whimpers she couldn't keep back seemed magnified ten times over - to more than just my ears.

There was that threat of spontaneous combustion, again, but I survived. We slept, then, as close together as we could possibly be. Almost as if our bodies knew what was going to happen, and thought we could ward it off by staying in each other's arms forever.

If only.

* * * * *

I awoke at six the next morning, still feeling a little tired, not wanting to get out of bed and leave the warmth of Kevyn's body next to mine, but knowing I'd promised my mom I'd be back for breakfast. Which would probably start in the next half hour or so. I climbed out of bed carefully and dressed, trying to make as little sound as possible, even as I zipped my jeans or buttoned my coat.

I kissed her forehead and tiptoed to the door, but her voice stopped me.

"You're going?" she asked, in mid-yawn, one green eye open and staring at me.

I turned, and reminded, "I have to, sweetheart. I promised mom I'd be back to help her cook." 

She nodded, and snuggled back under the covers, calling, "Okay, baby. I love you. Call you later."

"I love you, too," I replied, chuckling, knowing she was asleep before I even started brushing the snow and ice from the windshield of the truck.

I made it home and took my shoes off, hanging up my coat and sweatshirt since the fire in the fireplace was dutifully keeping the house warm, heading directly to the kitchen. My timing was perfect, I grinned to myself, as my mom was just beginning to mix the pancake batter.

She instructed me to start washing the strawberries, and I did as I was told, feeling her eyes on me the whole time. I shifted, a little uncomfortable, wondering what she was looking at.

"AJ," she said, finally coming near, "what is that on your neck?"

I blinked. "Huh?" My hand automatically went to my throat, trying to figure out what she was talking about. Had I scratched it or something? Or maybe there was a bug?

"It looks like… a hickey."

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, and then focused on the strawberries again, willing myself not to blush. If I'd ever not wanted to blush, that was the time. I had to come up with a convincing story, all the while managing not to let my cheeks flush or my voice crack, or it would give me away.

"It's just a bruise," I said. "Hamlet bit me the other night; I was playing a little too rough I guess."

My mother didn't look quite convinced. "I didn't notice it last night."

I shook my head, finishing the last of the berries and turning the water off. "Probably because I had my sweatshirt on. It doesn't hurt too bad anymore, he didn't break the skin," I said, going along with my lie, feeling bad but knowing I didn't have any other choice. "I put him back in his cage right away, to let him know he's not supposed to do that. It's all right."

Being thus dismissed, my mom went back to her side of the kitchen, where she was also starting the veggie bacon slices, and I told myself that I did indeed remember how to breathe.

Oh, that was too close for my comfort, I decided, and made a mental note to make sure there weren't any incriminating marks left the next time I was with Kevyn, but got sidetracked when my brother entered the kitchen.

"Hey, AJ, can I talk to you for a second?" he asked, and I paused.

"Sure," I drawled, confused. Telling mom I'd be right back to keep an eye on the pancakes she'd just placed on the griddle, I followed my twin into the den, watching him close the doors and begin to pace nervously.

I was puzzled. "Bastiaan, what's going on?"

He stopped. "Today, Annika. It's today."

I raised an eyebrow. "Well, of course it is. It wouldn't be tomorrow or yesterday, now would it?"

Apparently now was not the time for jokes.

"I mean, it's today. I'm going to tell mom and dad today." 

Oh, that today. 

"Bobby asked me to move in with him, and I said yes. I already started packing last night. But I want to tell mom and dad today, before I start moving boxes out and they wonder why," he explained.

"Is Bobby going to be here?"

He shook his head. "I told him I could move everything by myself, or maybe you would help. I don't want him here. I don't think it would be a good idea."

I nodded. For all his nerves, at least he seemed to be thinking clearly.

"Of course I'll help, Bastiaan. This is what you want?" He nodded, that same stupid grin covering his face that I now knew without a doubt spread across mine when my thoughts so often turned to Kevyn. "Then I'm happy for you two. Let's get through breakfast, and then you can tell them, okay? I'll be there." I had promised. I had no intentions of letting him go through that alone.

"Promise me one thing, Annika." I nodded for him to continue. "If this ends badly, as I think it will, don't go telling them about you, just because of me. Do you understand? I don't want you saying anything just so you can take some of the heat off me. You tell them when you're ready, and I'll be there for you."

I wondered if he knew me too well, because in any other situation, that was exactly what I would do. Now, however, with this discussion… I knew it to be private, and no matter what I told my parents, about me or anyone else, it wasn't bound to make much of a difference. 

"I promise."

Just because I wouldn't tell them about me and Kevyn, didn't mean I wasn't going to say anything at all. If I could come up with some way to help my brother and my parents through the conversation easier, I was going to try.

Breakfast seemed tense to me, though I could only imagine the knots my brother was working himself into, and my parents didn't say anything if they noticed. We both cleared the table, and then I glanced up at my sibling, but he shook his head. He wasn't ready. 

Afraid he wasn't going to go through with it, I pulled him upstairs after the kitchen was clean, as my dad was in the den reading his newspaper and my mom was resting on the sofa in front of the fire, and decided to talk to him.

"Bastiaan, what are you thinking?"

"I can't do this, AJ. I don't think I can do this."

Normally, I wouldn't have questioned it. But he was moving out - he had to tell them something. And I was sure he'd already told Bobby he was going to come out to my parents. Just over an hour before he had been positive he was going to tell them. Now he wasn't sure. He needed to be as confident and sure of himself as possible, and I told him as much.

"You have to be as steady as you can be, Bastiaan. Didn't you say that's what one of those books told you was best? If they ask you questions, you have to show them you believe what you're saying, or they'll think it's only a phase or a joke or something. This is your life, bro. You have to be serious. You can do this. I'll be right there with you," I promised, again, and patted his shoulder.

He sighed, but seemed to agree with me.

"Lunch. I'll tell them after lunch." 

Sure enough, it wasn't long after we'd cleared the table from lunch, when my dad had already finished his paper, and Bastiaan asked them to come into the den, please, he wanted to talk to them.

Bastiaan sat on the couch, and I sat beside him, my parents taking up the recliners. Mom looked interested but slightly concerned, too, and dad just looked relaxed. I knew neither of them could possibly know what he was going to tell them… but I hoped, somewhere inside, that they did, that they had always known, and just didn't care.

"Well, I, uh, I have some news," he began, and I nudged him gently, trying to get him to breathe. If he started stuttering about it right away, mom and dad would think it was something bad.

"What is it, Bastiaan?" questioned my mom.

"Well, you know how Bobby and I have been together for a while now, right?" 

My dad nodded, and cut right to the chase of what was on the forefront of his mind. "Did something happen, son? Is Bobbi pregnant?" 

Bastiaan let out a nervous laugh. "No, Bobby's not pregnant. But we have decided to move in together… We talked about it over the weekend, and I started packing last night."

Looks were exchanged. "Are you sure that's what you want to do, Bastiaan?"

"I'm positive," he said, evenly. "I just wanted to let you guys know, so when I started loading things up into the car, you knew what was going on."

My mom frowned slightly. "I wish you would have told us sooner… this all seems sudden, I think. You've barely turned eighteen, and we haven't even met her yet…"

Bastiaan rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture I realize that I did, as well, and I nudged him again, this time as a show of support instead of a correction. My hand stayed on his arm.

"See, you've already met Bobby," he told them, and I could see their minds begin to work as they tried to figure that one out, "just a few weeks ago, at the dinner. His full name is Robert."

No one moved. I'm not even sure anyone breathed. Bastiaan was clutching my hand tightly now, as we waited for their reaction.

Justin spoke first. "If this is some sort of New Year's prank, Bastiaan, it isn't funny," he said, but his voice was unsteady.

My brother shook his head. "This isn't a prank, dad. Bobby and I have been together for over a year now, and I was afraid to tell you, so I started telling you he was a girl. He asked me to move in with him, and I said yes."

My mom took a deep breath. "Bastiaan, honey… you're still young. And you know, sometimes our hormones can get out of control, make us choose the wrong thing…"

"It's not my hormones, mom," he said, almost sounding exasperated. I squeezed his arm gently, telling him to take it easy. He had to stay calm in all this, if no one else did. "And how can love be wrong? I love him."

The color in my dad's face had been slowly increasing as Bastiaan spoke, but with that last sentence, he exploded out of his chair.

"No! No son of mine is a goddamned faggot," he cursed, and I think even my mom winced at his language; Hamlet certainly squawked at the noise. "You tell me you're lying, Bastiaan. You tell me this is all some sick joke."

Bastiaan stood, also. I joined him, staying silent, but never leaving his side. Even if I'd wanted to, I don't think the death grip he had on my hand would have allowed it. "I can't lie about what's in my heart. I'm happy, dad, happier than I've ever been. I love him, and we're going to be together, but I want you to be happy for me. Can't you do that?"

"I can't, and I won't," came the growled response. "Pack and get out of this house by tonight. I have no son." And he stormed out of the den, the slamming door sounding from the other end of the house telling us that he was in his bedroom. 

Holding my twin's hand, I knew he wanted to sink into the couch and break down, but there was still one more person in the room he had to survive.

He turned to her with a soft, "Mom?"

Her eyes looked older than I had ever seen. She shook her head. "I can't accept this, Bastiaan. I do want you to be happy, but I always thought you'd grow up to get married, start a family…"

"I am starting a family, mom," protested Bastiaan.

"I'm sorry, but your father's right. This… this is just... You should go."

And then she left, too, and Bastiaan lost his grip on my hand. He fell back against the couch, hanging his head. I sat beside him again and put an arm around his shoulders, and we cried together, for all that he had lost and everything that I had to expect.

This is a terrible world we live in, I decided, when children don't feel safe enough, or comfortable enough to talk to their parents… when children have to be brave, have to gather courage to tell their parents of their happiness. The most wonderful feeling that anyone has ever known is love, and there are those who refuse to acknowledge it, to accept it, as real. 

"I'm sorry, Bastiaan," I said, when we were able to speak, and he stood on still shaking legs, wiping his arm across his eyes to get rid of the tears.

"Come on, AJ," he rasped, and cleared his throat, trying again. "Come on. I've got to finish packing."

I helped him gather more of his things into boxes, and carry them out to his car, which was actually my mom's old one, just like I drove my dad's old truck. When it was full, he said he was going to drive it up to the apartment and unload, and be back in about an hour for the rest of it. His furniture would have to go another time.

While he drove, I made my way upstairs to my parents' bedroom, knocking softly. My mom called for me to come in, when I told her who it was.

"Where's dad?" I asked, not seeing him in the room.

"He went into town… he's just too upset to be here right now," she said, as though I should understand, and while I didn't, I nodded and accepted that he was angry.

"He must have gone while I was helping Bastiaan pack," I mused, and mom took my hand, carefully.

She had me sit beside her on the bed. "Oh, honey, I know this must be hard on you," she began, "finding out that your brother is… like that. I'm here if you want to talk, sweetheart."

I bit back an irritated sigh. "Mom, can I ask you something?"

"What is it, honey?"

"Would you love Bastiaan any less if he dropped out of school?"

She paused, but only slightly. "No, of course not."

"Would you love him any less if he started smoking marijuana?"

"No. I'd be disappointed, but no, I wouldn't."

"Would you love him any less if he loved men?"

"No -," she froze when she realized what she'd said.

I looked at her, evenly. "It's still Bastiaan, mom. He'll always be your son, and my brother. Only now he's happy." I kissed her cheek, and stood. "Can you think about that, please?"

She was gazing at me strangely, but nodded, so I left her to herself. I promised Bastiaan I wouldn't say anything about Kevyn and I, and I hadn't. But maybe I'd still managed to do some good. If my mom could just remember that Bastiaan hadn't changed, maybe she could remember that she still loved him. I knew she did. She just didn't understand.

And my dad… 

I sighed. I had no idea what to do on that front.

One parent at a time, I decided, and went to finish packing up Bastiaan's room.

When we were taking the last load down to the car, mom met us at the front door. Dad had yet to return from town. It was dark, and the light from the porch illuminated the falling snowflakes in an eerie silence. We set down the boxes we were carrying, and Bastiaan turned to face her, bracing himself as if he was expecting her to strike him.

She didn't hug him, but I think she wanted to. "I love you, Bastiaan. I don't like what you're doing with your life, I think it's the wrong choice…" I had to bite my lip to keep from telling her it isn't a choice, "and I don't know that I'll ever be able to accept it. But I love you. Don't doubt that."

I could tell he was close to tears. "I love you, too, mom." He paused, swallowing. "I've got to go, now."

"Be safe… will you, maybe, call sometimes?"

"I will," he promised. "Thanks, mom."

And then we were out the door, into the snow, placing the last of his things in the backseat of the car. His room was empty, now; his closet and drawers were bare. He'd even taken the linen from his bed.

He pulled me into a strong hug that I think was meant to transfer to my mom, as well.

"Thanks, Annika, for everything," he said, and I kissed his cheek.

"I love you, too, Bastiaan. If you call, call my line, okay? And you better give me your phone number soon." He promised he would, hugged me again, told me to take care of Kevyn, and climbed in the driver's seat. The car started after a brief struggle against the cold, and then he was off. I watched him until I was too cold to stand outside anymore, then I went back inside and watched him from the window, until the snow and distance took him from my view.

Dad still wasn't back. Mom had gone back up to her room, I assumed, since she was no longer by the front door. The dogs, resting inside the house and out of the snow, whined a little as I climbed the stairs. They must have felt the mood, too. The emptiness. The house had never seemed so large, and so frightening.

I passed by his room… no, it was his old room now… and saw my mom sitting on his bed, just looking around. I let her be. If she was lost in her thoughts, maybe that was a good thing. I closed my bedroom door behind me, turned the radio on low to see if there was any predicted change in the weather, and stretched out on my bed.

It was almost dinner time, but I decided a nap was in order, and that if mom wanted my help with cooking, she could wake me up. I planned to call Kevyn later that night, but at that time I was just so emotionally exhausted I didn't think I'd be much for conversation.

About an hour and a half later, I awoke to my mom's hand on my shoulder. I hadn't meant to sleep that long, and stretched my arms over my head as I rolled over and looked at her, noticing the rings around her eyes that signaled she'd been crying just a few minutes before.

"Come on down for dinner, AJ," she said, her voice rough from the tears. "It's ready."

I nodded, and got to my feet. I wondered why she hadn't gotten me up to help cook, and then guessed she'd wanted some time with just her and dad, maybe to talk. I hoped that was a good thing.

But when I got to the kitchen, I paused. There were only two places set.

"Looks like it's just us girls for dinner tonight," my mom swallowed, smiling thinly. 

I frowned. It wasn't like my dad not to be home. Then again, I guess he had a lot to deal with. But, still…

"It looks good," I sighed, and tried to be somewhat cheerful, but dinner was a silent event. Mom didn't talk. I didn't think she wanted to. I wondered what she was thinking, if she worried about dad, about Bastiaan. I knew I was.

Just as if nothing had changed, I cleared the table and stacked the dishes to be washed. There weren't many, with just two sets of dinnerware and a few pots from mom's cooking. I had just started running the water when I heard the front door open. I heard my mom's voice clearly, and almost dropped the glass I was holding when her words registered.

"Justin! You're drunk," she accused, and he slammed the door. 

I flinched, and furrowed my brow as I ran that through my mind. My dad didn't get drunk. He didn't drink any alcohol, because my mom couldn't, and he had told me once that he could never understand turning to the bottle to run away from a problem when sooner or later you could solve it yourself.

I wondered what had suddenly enlightened him.

"Yes, I'm drunk." I flinched again. He was slurring his words. I figured he'd been drinking all afternoon. 

By this time I had poked my head out from the kitchen, and watched the scene unfold.

My mom went to touch his face, red-rimmed eyes and all, but he pulled away from her, needing to put a hand on the wall to keep from falling over completely. That wasn't just the alcohol that was making his voice so gruff, I realized that he'd been crying, as well.

"Honey, why don't you go to bed? Sleep whatever this is off."

He frowned. "Sleep it off? I have to wake up ever day knowing that my son is a fucking homo. How the hell am I supposed to sleep that off?"

That was the last time much of anything was said about my brother.

"Bastiaan…" I was going to try to tell my dad the same reasoning I'd given my mom earlier, but his fist on the wall ceased my words.

"No!" he roared. "Don't say that name. I have no son."

"Dad…"

His hand moved again, but this time it was to my shoulder, and I winced when I got a strong smell of alcohol.

"Annika," he breathed, and I fought the urge to gag, "you are my only child. You'll be good to the ranch when it becomes yours. Don't disappoint me. Be good."

Mom took his arm, then, and pulled him down the hall into the bedroom before he was aware enough to protest.

I ran up to my room and called Kevyn. In between tears of hurt and confusion, I told her everything.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry." Her voice was soothing, and calmed me a little, but the only thing I wanted at that moment was here arms around me, chasing the events of the day into the back of my mind.

"He's never going to love me for me, who I really am," I said, and heard a sad sound from the other end. She didn't know what to say to that, it meant, but she wanted the same thing I did.

"You can still keep in touch with your brother, baby, nothing has to change there."

I nodded. "But he's not here anymore. He could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but I really miss him. I just feel alone," I admitted at last, and I wasn't sure if the sound was sad or slightly hurt this time. I hurried to clarify. "I only mean here, you know. Like it's just me and them now, and he wants so much for me to be the perfect daughter now that he feels Bastiaan screwed up. But I can't, and I know eventually I'm just going to break him apart all over again."

I was crying again.

"Oh, Nikka, I wish I could be there with you right now."

"Me, too."

She thought for a moment. "Can you call Stacey, honey? Maybe she can come over with you."

"Maybe." It was a little late, but I knew Stacey would come if I needed her.

Kevyn was tired, and I told her to go to bed, and after a bit of a struggle, I won. She said we would talk tomorrow - I was thinking about taking her to the coffee shop, hoping to see my brother at the same time.

I didn't call Stacey. Oh, I knew if I did, she would get bundled up and drive twenty minutes in the heavy snow and not stop to think twice. It was good to know that.

But all I wanted to do was curl up and try to hide from the settling weight of an empty house. So I did. But it didn't work. Either missing my brother or knowing that now it was only me and my parents caused me one of the worst nights of sleep I believe I've ever had.

Save one. The night I lost Kevyn was terrible… but, that comes later.

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

It wasn't hard to convince my mom to let me go out the next day, all day. She said she understood if I didn't want to be around until my father had sobered up, and I agreed. It was bad enough to have seen him drunk the night before, I wasn't sure that being around while he had a hangover would be any better.

I decided I wouldn't mention anything about it to Bastiaan.

Kevyn called just after breakfast, while my dad was still asleep, to see what I was doing for the day. I told her I had someplace I wanted to show her, and she agreed to go along.

"I'll be over in just a few minutes, honey," I said, and hung up. I pulled a sweatshirt over my head, pulled on my jacket, and was putting on my gloves as I climbed downstairs. I patted Ramya on the head and was out the door just a moment later. I left the truck running, since I'd seen the curtain move and knew Kevyn had watched me drive up, and sure enough, she rushed out the door and into the truck just a minute later.

She leaned over and kissed me, her lips already cold from the air outside. "Hi."

I smiled, "Hi," and returned the kiss.

"Where are we going?" she wanted to know.

I reached over and took her hand, choosing not to answer her question. I wanted it to be a surprise. I wasn't quite sure why, but I did. She raised an eyebrow at me, a move I found to be quite sexy, but didn't ask again.

Turning up the radio, I managed to convince her to sing along, and got to hear her beautiful voice once again. She didn't blush this time when I turned down the volume, nor did she stop singing. I grinned at her for it.

We were able to find a parking spot near the entrance, so we wouldn't have to walk very far in the snow, which was still falling. I didn't think it would be safe to drive for a while until the snow plows could come through again, so I was glad we'd made it when we had. 

That, and a warm cup of hot chocolate sounded really good.

"This is the coffee shop that my brother took me to," I explained, and when I kept hold of her hand even after we were indoors, she shot me a startled look.

"Look around, sweetheart," I said, moving my arm to her shoulders. Verdant eyes took in the occupants of the room quickly, and I felt her relax when she realized a majority of the couples sitting close together, sharing steam from a hot drink, were of the same sex. 

She was comfortable, then. I let her pick a table and ordered us both hot chocolates. I saw the light in her eyes as I made my way back to the corner booth she'd chosen, and knew I'd made the right choice.

"This place seems nice," she said, and I nodded, telling her the story of how my brother had met his boyfriend here.

She smiled gently. "And you're hoping they're here again today."

I blinked. "No, I'm not! Well, I mean, I am, but… I wanted to take you here, too. Ever since Bastiaan brought me, I thought you might like to come."

The smirk I caught made me pause. "You know I'd like to do that," she purred, and I jumped when I felt her foot make its way up my calf.

"Kevyn!"

"Something wrong, love?" The redhead grinned again, telling me that not only did she not blame me for having a second motive to our visit, but that she wouldn't tease me again. I knew she could, and I knew how much she enjoyed seeing me blush, but I loved her for knowing how to quell the urge.

I breathed slowly, smiling a little too brightly at the waitress when she brought our drinks, and willed my heart to return to its normal rhythm, and preferably its normal place up in my chest.

"Everything's fine," I replied. She had me so distracted I took a sip of my hot chocolate before giving it a chance to cool, and pulled it back quickly when I felt it burn the inside of my mouth. Swallowing in an attempt to lessen the pain, Kevyn moved closer to me and cupped my chin with her palm.

"Are you all right?" A piece of ice suddenly appeared in her hand, and she moved it to my lips, until I had it in my mouth. I chewed it and felt the ice blast the heat and the tingles that caused on my tongue. When she offered me another piece, I refused, quite embarrassed by my own stupidity.

My girlfriend must have realized my blush for what it was, and rubbed my arm. "You sure you're all right, baby?" I nodded. She kissed my cheek for a long moment, and when she pulled back, I was smiling again.

"That's better. Now, does this place serve anything other than coffee?" Staying close to ensure that I wouldn't continue kicking myself, she picked up her menu, and we decided on a snack that would be worthy of brunch.

I didn't see my brother that day. Nor did I see Bobby. But after about ten minutes, I completely forgot that was my initial reason for wanting to stop by the coffee house. Kevyn and I were talking, exchanging touches and looks in a comfortable atmosphere, knowing that even if anyone was paying attention to us, they didn't care. In the beginning, I tensed up every time the door opened, expecting my dad to come strolling in for some reason. Of course, that didn't happen, and I relaxed completely after a while, Kevyn assuring me there was nothing to worry about.

The waitress came and set the bill on the table, and I reached for it as Kevyn was talking, thinking she wouldn't notice, but Kevyn took it in her hand without missing a single beat of her conversation.

I frowned slightly. "I invited you here, I'll pay," I insisted.

Green eyes sparkled. "I've got it, baby. Really."

I opened my mouth to protest again, but she decided to play dirty.

"Please?"

Breathing deeply, I scowled at her. "That's not fair."

"I know," she grinned, pulling some cash from her pocket and matching it to the amount on the receipt, as well as a few dollars for the tip, which she left on the table. She kissed my shoulder as we slid out of the booth, and I forgave her.

I drove her back, apparently not long after the plow had gone over the main roads, because there was little snow under my tires, and we spent a long while just kissing in my truck. The fact that the front seat of a pickup truck is neither a comfortable nor a practical place to make love is the only thing that stopped us. That, and it had gotten pretty cold, even with the warm breaths we were exchanging.

She kissed my neck, near my shoulder, and I shivered. "I love you, Annika."

I pulled her closer. "I love you, too." I took a deep breath, and was enjoying the scent of her when she pulled back. "What?"

"It's cold," she grinned, eyes bright. "I should get inside, baby. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay." She had told me earlier while we were at the coffeehouse that she wouldn't be able to invite me in, because her mom wasn't feeling well at all, and had requested that no one see her in that condition, including her daughter. Patrick was delivering messages from his wife to his little girl, and while Kevyn said she was a little worried, it wasn't the first time her mom had decided to hide in her room all day. 

I kissed her again. That worried me, but Diane's voice rang in my head, and I didn't say anything. "Tell your mom and dad hi. I love you, honey."

Her arms went around me in a strong embrace, and fine red hair tickled my nose. "And I love you. Have a good day, Nikka." And then she was rushing into the house where it was warm, and I made sure she was in safely before carefully driving away.

And, as I drove back and inhaled the strong smell of her on my clothes, that was the last time I smiled. From that day until now, I haven't had a thing to be happy about.

* * * * *

I arrived home to hear my mom and dad arguing in the kitchen. I paused, my arm still raised to put my coat on the rack by the door. Arguing? I hadn't heard my parents argue once, to the best of my memory. I'm sure they did, they just made sure to hide it from Bastiaan and I. 

But, this… I wouldn't have been able to miss the yelling if I had been asleep in my room upstairs.

"I'm telling you, it's not true!"

"Then you ask her!" roared my dad. 

I frowned. I got the feeling they were talking about me, and decided it was probably a good idea to stay out of the kitchen just then, until I was sure exactly what was going on between them.

"I will not. Justin, it's her life. She's eighteen!"

A plate was dropped, or thrown, I don't know. Either way, I heard the dish break, and jumped. Things were being broken? 

This really was bad.

"I don't give a damn! She's still living under my roof, and she will live by my rules!" He was drunk again.

The kitchen door burst open, and my dad stormed into the room, seeming to suck up all the oxygen in a single moment. 

I froze, unable to do anything other than stare at him. He looked much like he always did, with the exception of the wild and clouded fire in his eyes.

"Annika, AJ, you're home," he said, and my mother stopped short beside him. I didn't look at her. "I have to ask you something, it's very important. I don't want to be asking you this, but I have to know. It's important, you have to answer me honest, understand?"

I swallowed, heart pounding. I suddenly knew what he was going to ask. There was no reason for my mind to come up with it, but I knew it as sure as I knew it was snowing outside.

"What?"

"I heard about this girl, from church, at the Christmas Eve service. Now I want to know. She said that you grabbed her butt, you rubbed against her, and asked if you two could do something later. Said you came on to her. Did you?" 

My jaw almost dropped. "I never did anything like that!" 

He didn't seem to be too concerned with that answer. "For me, now, I have to know. You tell me the truth, now. Are you a lesbian?"

"No." I wasn't about to come out to my dad when he was drunk, and certainly not based off a lie.

"You tell me the truth. You're not, are you or are you not gay?" He was stumbling over his words, but I knew what he meant.

"No," I repeated myself.

"Honest?"

"Yes." I was limited to one-word answers.

He wasn't buying it. "You tell me! Because I think you are. I say you are a lesbian, and you're lying!"

"Justin, drop it." My mom finally stepped in. "Let it go."

"All right, okay. We won't talk about this ever again. I'll never bring it up. Never ever. You just tell me the truth. Are you a lesbian?"

I felt sick. "No."

"You like boys?"

"Yes."

"Don't you lie to me!"

"Justin! She already answered you. You leave her alone," my mom demanded, trying to turn his face so he would concentrate on her, but he kept moving around her arm and just kept staring at me. I couldn't get away from his eyes. I couldn't make myself move. I just stood there, feeling sick and faint.

His voice pounded in my head. "No! Look at her, Sue, she wants to tell you! Give her two more minutes, I know it, she wants to tell you. Look at her! She's a lesbian and she wants to tell you!"

My mom slapped his face. "Justin, you stop this. Stop it, right now." He didn't listen, and kept brushing her aside as if she hadn't and couldn't touch him. Sad eyes looked at me, and I heard my mom say, "Go on into your room and just stay there, Annika."

I nodded, thinking that was a good idea, and started up the stairs. At the top of his lungs, with all the power of the alcohol in his system, my dad shouted, "She's gay! Our daughter's fucking gay!"

I slammed the door behind me and cried. I slid down the wall, shaking. I suddenly felt so cold. Too cold. I couldn't stop trembling. I felt scared, and violated, and angry, and hurt. Who had said those things? Maybe nobody. Maybe my dad was just drunk enough to start making up stories.

I wished Bastiaan was there.

My mom was still yelling at dad, trying to get him to be quiet, to go to bed and sleep off the alcohol, and I heard every word. Dad refused to give in, and I even heard her slap him again. The kitchen door slammed, and I wondered if dad had gone to get another drink, or maybe mom was trying to collect herself.

The door to my room burst open, and I looked up, eyes wide. It was my dad. 

"Annika, we're not going to talk about this ever, ever again," he slurred.

I was quiet, tears still running down my face, and merely nodded.

"Never again. But you got to tell me the truth, first." Oh, God. "You're gay, aren't you? You are. I always thought you were, but I didn't want to believe it. But you tell me now, and it'll be just what you say. Are you gay?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but my mom stepped around him, and saw the terrified look on my face, and reacted in full protective mode.

"You leave her alone, Justin, do you hear me? You stop this! Don't say another word."

He snarled. "Don't tell me what to say and what to not say."

My mother's voice was cold. "When it comes to my little girl, I will fucking tell you what to say and do. Get out." Drunk as he was, dad was unable to keep his balance when mom shoved him, and he stumbled head-first out the door, hitting the wall with his shoulder. He didn't howl in pain, or even grunt, so it must not have hurt.

Dad was loudly protesting the treatment, even as mom dragged him downstairs and made him stay in the bedroom.

A moment later, my door opened again. I jumped, and almost cowered in the corner, expecting it to be my dad and for him to start yelling at me again.

"Pack your things, Annika," said my mom. "We're leaving."

I blinked, but immediately got up and found a bag. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know yet. Just away from here." 

It was snowing, pretty heavily. But the chains on my mom's car were secure, I knew, and she knew how to handle the roads in such conditions. Within five minutes, I had everything I thought I would need for a night or two stuffed into an old duffel bag, and was dressed for the weather.

Mom was still in the room. "Got everything?"

I nodded.

"Let's go." She led the way downstairs, hurrying to the car, and drove off the property with a determined looked on her face. I was silent, keeping to myself, head bowed as I fiddled with the last button on my jacket, which hadn't buttoned properly since I was twelve and got it smashed in the barn door.

I didn't pay any attention to where we were going. Frankly, I don't think I cared. I just didn't want to go back there. I didn't even want to go to my room, where I knew he could find me. I never thought I'd have a reason to honestly be scared of my parents, but that night, I knew I was terrified of my father.

"I'm so sorry, baby," my mom spoke after a time, and I glanced up.

"It's okay." I was trying to make her feel better, knowing she must have felt awful, too.

"No, it isn't." Her hand reached out and caressed my cheek. "You know I love you, right? You're my little girl and I'll do anything to keep you safe. I'm sorry I let him say those things to you."

I shook my head. "You couldn't have stopped him, mom. He's drunk." I waited a moment, and then added, "I didn't do those things. I don't know why he said I did."

She parked the car then, and I realized we were at Stacey's house. "I didn't believe you did, honey, it never sounded like something you would do to anyone." She didn't ask about the other thing he'd demanded to know, and I realized she probably didn't want to find out. Either that, or she didn't think it was wise to ask just then.

We ran towards the door, and inside, a dog started barking when we knocked. Dr. Lisa answered the door in less than a minute, looking tired and a little cold in her robe.

"Susan? AJ?"

My mom gave her an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry to just show up like this, Lisa, and I really hate to ask, but can we stay for the night? We've had some… it's been a rough night."

The door opened all the way and she ushered us in. "Oh, of course, it's no problem at all. Come on in and have a seat in the kitchen, I'll make some tea." Dr. Lisa was a kind woman, and remembered my mom wouldn't drink hot chocolate. "Get out of those cold clothes, come on, now."

While we hung up our coats, Dr. Lisa heated some water, and the sound of the whistle brought Stacey wandering into the kitchen.

She rushed over and gave both my mom and I a warm hug.

"Oh, Stacey, honey, why don't you take AJ to your room? Susan and I will talk out here so we won't keep you girls up." Stacey nodded, and led me down the hall carefully. I knew I wouldn't sleep.

"What's going on?" my friend asked, taking the cup of tea from my hands when she realized I was shaking. I hadn't been able to calm down any, even though we were no longer in the same house.

I sniffled, and by the time I'd finished telling her everything, I was sobbing. Stacey wrapped her arms around me and held me close, rocking me gently. I clutched her to me in a death grip, needing the comfort and the closeness of someone that I knew was safe. She kissed the top of my head. Soon I moved and stretched out, laying my head in her lap, bawling still.

"I'm so sorry, honey," she said, stroking my hair. "You should have called me the other night, I definitely would have gone over."

"I know," I hiccupped. "I just don't understand why he did this."

"Neither do I, love." 

I slept beside her that night, curled up and trying to feel as relaxed as was possible, Stacey doing the best she could and rubbing my back gently until I fell asleep. I didn't sleep well, however, and kept waking up with a small cry. Stacey would feel my movements, and try to soothe me back to sleep.

The third time, I got up and wandered around for a few minutes, looking for my mother. She and Dr. Lisa were still in the kitchen, judging by the voices, so I stood by the door for a moment, just to listen. Yes, I was eavesdropping. But I knew that night had bothered my mom, too, and I wanted to know why, and if there was something I could do to make it better for her. I knew she would never tell me directly.

"I just don't understand any of this, Lisa."

"Do you think AJ is a lesbian?"

I held my breath.

My mom sighed heavily. "I don't know what to think anymore. I mean, she's always spending so much time with Kevyn, the neighbor girl. But she says it's because Kevyn's mother is sick, and she wants to be there for her. And that's my little girl, worrying about everyone else." I smiled inwardly at the praise, in spite of myself. "At the same time, I've never heard her say a word about dating a boy. I know the school situation made that difficult, but surely she must have met some people."

Dr. Lisa was silent for a beat, and then asked, "What if she is?"

There was no answer for a long while.

Then, "It'll tear Justin apart."

"I don't care a fig about Justin right now," was the stern reply. "I'm asking about you, Susan, how would you feel?"

"I'd be scared for her."

"Why?" Dr. Lisa sure was calm about all this, I noticed. And she must have been very serious; she looked older than I'd ever seen, and I never once caught an "Oh". I'd have to thank her before we left.

I'd managed to quietly open the door a little, and so was now able to see as well as hear what was going on. My mother sat at the end of the table, her back to me, cradling a cup of tea in her hands, if I could take a guess. Dr. Lisa had moved a chair around so she now sat very close to my mother, hand often moving from her forearm to her shoulder, in comfort.

"It would be so hard for her… I mean, the world isn't nice to those people."

Dr. Lisa frowned a little. I could just see it, and didn't think my mom caught it, except in her voice. "What people?"

"You know… them."

My heart hurt.

"Who's 'them'?" Dr. Lisa was going to make her say it.

"The…" Mom cleared her throat. "The gays." She spoke it in a whisper, like saying it too loud was akin to saying Candyman to the mirror in a dark room.

The outside of the vet's eyebrow was raised. 

Hey, I didn't know Dr. Lisa could do that!

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

Now Dr. Lisa had me wondering. Either she was just very understanding, or… Well, Stacey had never said anything about her father, other than to tell me he wasn't around.

"People treat them so differently, Lisa. And it's wrong, you know, what they do. It isn't natural, and…"

Dr. Lisa had heard all she needed to. "Do you want to know how you can start making it better, Susan? For your son, your daughter, and all the rest of the world whether they're straight or not?" My mom shook her head 'yes'. "Understanding. Accepting might be too much to ask right now, but understanding is a good goal."

"I don't…"

"You do understand. You just need to realize it. You keep talking about gays and lesbians as if they're some sort of alien breed that sticks out like a sore thumb, people that need to be ostracized. You know now that they're not. Your son is gay; does he deserve to be treated like that?"

"Of course not."

"Then why should he be better than anyone else?"

My mom didn't have an answer.

"Do you want to know who's gay?"

Silence.

"Policemen, policewomen, doctors, lawyers, mechanics, hair stylists, soldiers, farmers, teachers, taxi drivers, and neighbors. People from every walk of life. And for most of them, you'd never know it. But they all want the same thing, Susan. Everyone wants to be happy, be loved, have a good job, and be able to come home after a long day to the one they love," Dr. Lisa said, and I grinned. Maybe between the two of us we could help my mom understand. "But sometimes they might lose their job, or be victims of hate, just because of who they choose to love. Is that fair?"

Mom shook her head. I wasn't sure if she was up to talking just then. Too much information, too many things to think about, I guessed.

"It doesn't make them any different than the rest of us, trying to get along in the world, doing all we can to be comfortable and secure, does it?"

Another 'no'.

"Now imagine if, in addition to the face of all that threat and hate, they can't even come home. They don't even have their parents to turn to. They're alone with this knowledge, thinking that for some reason what's in their heart is perceived as evil and wrong."

My mom raised her head, meeting Dr. Lisa's even gaze.

"Having someone who understands can be the greatest feeling in the world, when everyone else is against you."

"You're right," she whispered. "I… I'll try. And if Annika is… if she is gay, I want her to come to me. Not Justin. I'll try to understand."

Dr. Lisa hugged her gently. "Good. Now just remember that, Sue. Do you want some more tea?"

"That would be great, thank you. And then I think I might go lay down."

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and almost jumped out of my skin. It was Stacey. She'd come to see where I was.

"Hey, are you all right?" she asked, and I nodded, putting a finger to my lips and walking back to her room. We sat on her bed, and I told her the gist of what had been said.

Then: "Stacey, your mom… I mean, she…"

My friend smiled a little. "Are you trying to ask me if my mom is gay?"

I nodded.

"Yes. She says she came out to herself not long after I was born, and my dad couldn't stand it, so he left. No child support, nothing. But mom knew better than to ask for it, because at that time, it's possible the courts could have taken me away from her. My grandparents could have taken me, too, if they'd wanted. She never told them. 

"So she just worked hard, and was around as much as she could be, and we did okay," she grinned. 

"But, I've never seen her with…"

Stacey shook her head. "No, you wouldn't. For one, it's been a long time since my mom has dated, and two, she's always been very careful. She knows if the wrong person finds out, she stands to lose her clients."

I paused, considering this new information. "Do you think…?"

There was a kiss to my cheek, and Stacey urged me to lay down and try to go back to sleep. "I'm sure she'd be glad to talk with you, cupcake. You just let her know you need to talk, and she'll listen, give you advice if you need it. Now, go to sleep. We can't do anything more tonight."

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

Stacey and I slept in until almost ten. It was a school day, the first day back after break, so I was surprised that Stacey wasn't in school. She explained that one day wouldn't hurt, and her mom must have figured all she would have done was worry about my mom and I anyhow.

We went to the kitchen to get breakfast, and found that Dr. Lisa and my mom were already awake. No surprise there.

Dr. Lisa was making pancakes, and I assumed my mom was 'splurging', because I was sure they didn't have the same ingredients as we used at home. For my mom, she joked that even eating regular spaghetti was splurging, because it wasn't made with wheat.

"Oh, good morning, girls. Finally decided to join us?"

Stacey chuckled, and kissed her mom on the cheek. "Good morning, mom. Morning, Susan."

"Good morning, Stacey. How are you feeling, honey?" That last question was directed to me, and I sat beside her.

"I'm okay," I said, and knew she didn't believe it anymore than I meant it.

The pancakes were served, and just as we sat down, the phone rang. Stacey got up to answer it in the living room, walking back into the kitchen a moment later and touching my shoulder.

"It's for you," she said. I frowned. Who would be calling me here? I didn't figure Stacey would let me take it if it were my dad… Maybe it was Bastiaan, for some reason.

I made my way into the living room, and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Nikka?"

"Kevyn! What's wrong, honey?"

She sniffled. "I've been trying to get a hold of you since last night," she said, and I felt horrible. "I needed to talk to you."

"I'm so sorry, baby. We had some problems with my dad, and…"

"My mom's in the hospital."

I felt my heart lurch towards my feet.

I heard how unsteady her voice was, and knew she was close to tears. "She's not doing too good. She's asking for you, Nikka, and I need you, too."

I knew mom would let me borrow her car. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Which hospital?" She gave me all the information I'd need to find them, and I hung up. I rushed into the kitchen, told my mom that Diane was in the hospital and I needed to go. Stacey offered to drive, we got dressed in a hurry, and were on our way in six minutes flat, with directions to offer warm thoughts from Dr. Lisa and my mom.

It would take us about thirty minutes or so to drive all the way to the hospital in the snow, and Stacey was driving as quickly as she could while still keeping us safe. I was glad she was driving. I wouldn't have had the state of mind to worry about being cautious.

The drive was quiet. I assume Stacey didn't know what to say to me, and I just wanted to be lost in my thoughts, as it were. 

I should have been there when she called, I told myself. She needed me, and I wasn't there. I should have stayed, dad wouldn't have come out of his bedroom, I should have been there. Then she wouldn't have had to spend the night alone, wondering where I was, if her mom was going to make it, she wouldn't have been alone. 

It all came down to one thing. I failed her. 

I continued to kick myself all the way to the hospital, and jumped out of the truck even before Stacey had put in park. She rushed to catch up with me, and we walked in together, ignoring the nurse at the front desk and simply following the directions Kevyn had given me for the waiting room.

I didn't see her right away, and then there she was, somehow on one side of the room one second and in my arms the next. I held her close.

"I'm here, honey. I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner."

"She's asking for you again," she sighed into my shoulder, but didn't pull away.

I kissed the top of her head tenderly. "You sit with Stacey, love. It's okay. I'll be back soon," I promised, and motioned with my eyes for Stacey to take her and sit down. My friend understood, and gently took Kevyn's arm, leading her to a nearby chair, speaking softly. 

I found the room easily, and peeked in the doorway. Patrick was there, sitting in a chair by the bed. At first, I didn't see Diane. I didn't think she was there. I was too late.

But then, her head moved. She was there, she was just so thin and so pale I almost couldn't see her for the sheets. The machines beeped and clicked.

I cleared my throat, and Patrick jumped, giving me a sad smile. He turned to his wife, whispering, "Hey, darling, look who's here? Yeah, it's AJ. She's come to say hi, isn't that nice? I'll leave you two girls alone for a while, okay? You just let her know if you need anything." His eyes were hollow as he walked out of the room, and I was suddenly afraid.

Sitting in his chair, I just looked at her for a moment. Except for the time I'd broken my arm, I'd never been in a hospital. I'd never seen anyone lying in a hospital bed, all hooked up to machines and monitors, and I didn't know what to do. I wasn't sure if I could touch her, or if that would set some sort of alarm off or something.

Her eyes opened. Clouded with pain and medicine, but still beautiful. I could only catch a spark of the light I'd known just a week before.

I cried.

"AJ." Her throat was dry, and I reached for a cup of water with a straw that was on a tray by her bed. She nodded a little, and I held it to her lips with shaking hands, withdrawing it when she was done. "Thank you… for being here."

"I came as soon as I could. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I should have told them," I blubbered, "maybe they could have done something sooner. I'm so sorry…"

"Shhh…" Her hand came up off the bed a little, and I got the hint, reaching out and taking her hand in mine, trying not to shudder when I felt how cold she was. Cold, and her skin felt paper thin.

"I asked you not to say anything, you have to be strong for Kevyn and my husband," she told me, and I swallowed. "She's going to need you. You've been so good to my family, AJ." Her eyes started closing, and I was scared this was it. She was going to die, and I was going to have go out and tell everyone…

"Oh, God. Diane, please…"

Her eyes opened again. "So, so tired. I love them all. Kevyn, and my husband, and AJ… that's Kevyn's girlfriend, you know. She's so good for them. They had a little argument the other day, my husband told me, but I think they'll be okay. I love them. Will you tell them, Margie?"

I blinked. I had no clue who Margie was, though I learned later it was her sister, but had an idea that just then, Diane wasn't sure who I was. Kevyn and I hadn't had an argument since Christmas, and I didn't think her parents even knew about that one, so she must have been thinking some time in the past. The way she kept referring to Patrick as "my husband" made me wonder if she remembered his name.

I nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, sure, of course I'll tell them. They love you, too."

"Kevyn hasn't… hasn't seen me in two days. I don't want her to see me like this, I want her to remember me better than this." Her head moved again, and she gave a little sound like she might be in pain. I looked around frantically, wondering if there was something I could do, but then she started talking again. Her voice was getting weaker, and I had to lean closer to be able to hear. God, those machines were so loud. 

"Don't let her see me."

Kevyn wasn't going to like that, but I agreed I would do my best.

"Will you tell my husband I want to go home now? I don't want to be here anymore, Margie. I want to go home." Her eyes closed, and did not open again. I'm sure the sounds of the monitors changed to a solid tone, but I didn't hear it. Tears fell, and I leaned my forehead on her shoulder, begging her to wake up, promising that we all loved her, too.

A nurse came in some time later, and put her hand on my shoulder, comfortingly. She had unplugged the machine, so now the room was far too quiet.

"They're waiting," she said, softly. I knew who she meant, and got to my feet. I walked out the door in a daze, registering in the back of my mind that the nurse had pulled the top sheet up to cover Diane's face. 

Patrick and Kevyn looked up when they saw me. My heart broke at the hope in their eyes.

I shook my head, telling Patrick, "She went home." The large man put his head in his hands, and started rocking back and forth as he sobbed.

Kevyn leapt up and made a run for the room. I grabbed her and held her against me tightly, though she pulled to get away.

"Let me go! Damn it, Nikka, let me go! I have to see her."

"No, baby." I wrapped her arms in mine, keeping her still. "No, let her go. She didn't want you to see her, not like that," I whispered, kissed her temple. "Please, love." Suddenly, her fight was gone. She sagged in my embrace, and we both fell to the ground. She clutched at my shoulder, and I kept her close.

I refused to cry. Diane had told me to be strong. I wouldn't cry, not in front of Kevyn or Patrick. They didn't need to worry about me hurting, too. I had to be strong.

Almost an hour later, Patrick decided he was composed enough to drive home. He had already called the funeral home and made arrangements, he said, last night while Kevyn was sleeping. He didn't want to upset her, and knew he wasn't going to have his wife with him much longer. 

I wasn't so sure that he was okay to drive, and asked Stacey if she would mind driving him, and I would follow behind, taking Kevyn with me. She agreed, and we left ten minutes later, after I'd convinced Kevyn that it was time to go.

She was quiet the entire ride. That scared me more than her tears, I think. But I wasn't going to push her. She would come and talk to me when she was ready, I decided, and tried to send her comforting thoughts.

I leaned over to give her a gentle kiss when we arrived at her house, but I found nothing but thin air. She was already on her way inside. I blinked, a little hurt by her sudden departure, but figured she just wanted to be with her father. I couldn't blame her, and so didn't follow her.

Stacey climbed in beside me, and we were on the way back to her house. I knew I had to talk to my mom, and see what was going on for the day, whether or not we were going back home. I didn't know what she wanted to do. Plus, I hoped to be able to talk to Dr. Lisa for a few minutes.

* * * * *

I didn't get to talk to Dr. Lisa that day. We got back to Stacey's house, and I found that my mom had already packed everything. Dad called while Stacey and I were at the hospital, and said he was sorry, he was sober now, and he just wanted us to come home. Mom decided he was sincere.

"But we won't go if you don't want to," she assured me. I just sat there on the couch and didn't say anything for a moment. I think I'd had too much emotional pain in the past twenty-four hours to know for sure what I wanted to do about anything.

I sighed. "I really don't know, mom."

She nodded, seeming to understand, and kissed my forehead. "What do you say we head back, and give it a try? If you're not comfortable, we'll leave again right away. How's that sound?"

I shrugged. "Okay."

So, we went back. Dad met us at the door, and I immediately took a step back when he looked at me. I was afraid of his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Annika," he said. I could smell stale alcohol still on his breath, and didn't let him come near me, though he tried to give me a hug once or twice. I moved away each time. Mom watched us carefully. 

"Listen, honey, it doesn't matter to me, okay? It really doesn't. I'm just so sorry I hurt you, I love you so much. Can you forgive me?"

I nodded, numbly. "Yeah, I will." Probably wasn't going to be anytime soon, but I knew I would eventually.

He shook his head. "We won't talk about that ever again."

I raised an eyebrow. "If it doesn't matter, then why do you keep bringing it up?" I snapped, and went to my room.

Mom came in with sandwiches for lunch, and set the plate on my desk as she sat down beside me on my bed. I'd been stretched out there for the last two hours, staring at my ceiling, mind anything but blank.

"Honey? What do you want to do?"

I shrugged again. 

"Talk to me, Annika. I need to know what you're thinking."

"I don't even know what I'm thinking, mom."

She tried again. "What are you feeling?"

"Sad. Diane's dead and Kevyn won't talk to me," I stated.

My mom was quiet for a moment, and then she asked, "And is Kevyn your girlfriend?"

I was a little surprised by the ease with which my mom seemed to speak, and turned onto my side to actually look at her. She was serious. She looked like she was afraid, but also determined to know.

So, I nodded. "Yes, she is."

She let out a heavy sigh. "You lied to your father, then."

I gave her an incredulous look. "It would be bad enough if I told him when he was sober, mom, there's no way I was going to tell him while he was drunk."

"Who all knows?"

"Bastiaan, Stacey, and Kevyn's dad," I replied.

She appeared a little more relaxed with this answer. "Good. We don't have to tell anyone else."

I frowned. "Well, I wasn't planning on it."

"I'll make an appointment next week."

"An appointment? For what?"

She stroked my hair. "For the counselor."

I sat up so quickly I got a little dizzy. "The what?!" I cried. "Why do you want to send me to a counselor?" Suddenly, I didn't think she'd listened to a single thing Dr. Lisa had said. This was not how she was supposed to be understanding.

"Not just for you, baby. For me and you, and maybe for your father, too." I scowled. I didn't like the idea. "This is something we're all going to need help adjusting to."

"You didn't make Bastiaan go to a counselor."

"Bastiaan left before we could help him."

I raised an eyebrow. "Help him? You mean, change him." I didn't trust the idea of this counselor one little bit.

"It's for the best, Annika, for all of us. You'll see. Eat some lunch." And then she left. I grabbed a sandwich and munched idly, wondering if my mom truly had any idea of what was best.

* * * * *

Four days passed with no word from Kevyn. I decided I wouldn't call her, or go see her, until she was ready. So that meant waiting for her to contact me. I started getting anxious after the first day, and by day four, I was ready to climb the walls. In fact, I ran down to the kitchen every time that phone rang, and back upstairs to my room whenever I heard that phone, jumping at the chance that it might be my girlfriend.

But no, it was usually just Stacey, calling to check up on me. 

Bastiaan did call once, and gave me his new phone number with Bobby. He said they'd just gotten a few things ironed out with the phone company, and that was why it had taken so long for him to call.

I was sullen the entire conversation, and he noticed. I gave him a brief summary of what was going on when he asked.

"AJ… you should have told me."

"How was I supposed to get in touch with you?" I snapped. I was being short with everyone lately, I noticed. "You're out of here, Bastiaan. None of this concerns you anymore."

"Hey." He sounded hurt. "That's not true and you know it. I love you, AJ, and I'm worried about you. I've been thinking about you and mom every day, wondering how you're doing."

I growled at him. "We've been better. Enjoy your new life with Bobby." And I hung up on him. He didn't call back.

The phone rang a few minutes later, and I wasn't going to answer it, figuring it was my brother, but it had become such a habit to grab at the phone that I couldn't help it.

"Yeah?"

"AJ?"

All the breath left my lungs.

"Kevyn? How are you, baby? God, I've missed you so much." It didn't even register yet that she'd called me AJ. "Do you want me to come over?"

"I think it'd be better if you didn't."

I blinked. "Oh." I couldn't tell anything by her voice. I didn't hear a smile, but I didn't hear any signs of tears, either. Suddenly I didn't feel so good. Maybe something had been wrong with dinner. "Okay. Um, why?"

"I think we should see other people."

That threw me. "You what?"

"I'm sorry, AJ."

"You're breaking up with me?" I hadn't grasped the drift of the conversation yet.

Still no emotion of any sort coming from her words. "It's for the best."

I couldn't take it anymore. "No! No, it's not, damn it. It can't be. Best for who? Best for me? Hell, no. Best for you? I don't believe it. What's going on, Kevyn? Tell me, baby, please. Did I do something wrong?"

"Look, it's just over, okay?"

"But… why? I love you."

"Don't."

I heard her breath catch. I had to believe that I was getting through to her, I had to convince her this wasn't really what she wanted to do.

"I love you, Kevyn, you know I do. You don't want this, honey. Please, you know you don't want to break up." I was begging, and I knew it. "Please, think about this."

"I have. It's over, AJ, just let it go. Find someone else. I'll send you the locket and your shirt."

Then she was gone.

"Damn it!" I cried, and threw the phone across the room. It hit the wall and broke into four pieces. I didn't understand any of what had just happened, except that Kevyn had just ripped my heart from my chest. Four days of wondering if she was okay, and she was planning to break up with me the entire time.

I was angry. I was hurt, and confused, and lost. I didn't know exactly what I was, but I was a lot of it.

"See other people," I muttered, throwing pillows and stuffed animals everywhere. My mom came up to see what was wrong and I screamed at her to leave me alone. I punched a hole through my wall, and found some odd comfort in seeing the blood on my hand and feeling the pain. At least I knew how to make that feel better; I could deal with that. I couldn't deal with the emptiness that was swallowing me whole.

I washed the blood from my knuckles with water, and then poured some peroxide over them, hissing with the pain. Then I bandaged my hand, and went back to my room. I stayed up wondering what I'd done wrong to make Kevyn want to leave me, want to see other people. Maybe I should have let her see her mom. Maybe I should have called that first day. Maybe I shouldn't have been so naïve about everything.

The sun came up hours later, and I watched the sunrise with no emotion. It was beautiful, I admit, but I didn't care. The only thing on my mind was Kevyn. She'd asked me to just leave her alone, basically, but I wondered if going over to her house would do any good. 

"If I could just see her…"

I got bundled up and left before my parents were awake. I fed the horses, and then drove over to Kevyn's. The road was thick with snow, and visibility was poor, and there were a few times I wasn't sure I was going to make it.

By the time I pulled up next to her house, it was just after six. I doubted she was awake yet. I didn't care, and knocked on the door anyway. I kept knocking, driving the dogs crazy, until someone answered it.

A very surprised and sleepy Kevyn stood before me.

"AJ? What on earth are you doing here so early?" She shushed the dogs.

"I have to talk to you."

She sighed. "Go home, AJ."

I refused, and finally she let me in, rather than leaving me standing out in the cold. I stopped just inside the doorway.

"Tell me why."

"Why, what?"

"Why you broke up with me."

Clear green eyes closed briefly. "I told you, AJ. I think we should see other people."

I shook my head. "I don't believe that." I glanced around, and frowned at her. "Why is everything in boxes?"

She sighed, quieter this time. "Dad wants to move back to San Francisco."

This was almost as bad as our conversation last night. "What?" If she was thousands of miles away, how was I supposed to be able to convince that we were supposed to be together? At least if she stayed here, I had a chance.

"There's nothing here for him anymore, we moved out here for mom, and most of his business is still back in California. The funeral was yesterday, and we just came home and started packing."

"So this is why. You don't want to see other people. You're moving, and didn't want to tell me. You didn't even tell me about the funeral! I would have gone, Kevyn. You know I would have gone."

She shrugged. "You didn't seem that comfortable with it all, AJ. That's why I didn't ask."

"And you are comfortable?"

No answer.

"I was trying to give you time, Kevyn. Space, whatever you needed. That's why I didn't call. I was supposed to be strong for you, you know? Someone you could turn to." I had tears in my eyes again. "I didn't know what to do, but I would have gone."

"I needed to know that you were hurting, too. I don't need Superman, AJ. I just needed you." She was so quiet, I wasn't sure I'd heard her correctly.

We were already standing near each other, but I moved even closer, and told her, "I'm here. I'm here, now. Please don't send me away."

With tears in her own eyes, she looked up at me, and neither of us moved. I saw her throat move as she swallowed. Her voice broke and she uttered two words that pieced my heart back together and shattered it at the same time.

"Hold me."

I hugged her to me in a strong grip, crying into her shoulder even as she cried against mine. We both apologized until we lost track of what we were sorry about. 

She pulled back some time later, and kissed my cheek, effectively erasing a stray tear. "Let me change clothes, and I'll be right back." I nodded, and watched her walk down the hall, taking my time to look around. There were boxes everywhere, labeled "Kitchen" or "Den" as appropriate. I hoped that maybe if we were back together, she wouldn't move.

Kevyn returned wearing sweats and a T-shirt, since it was fairly warm in the house, and helped me take off my coat.

"What happened to your hand?" she asked, and I looked down. "What?"

"I hit the wall," I admitted, lowly.

The redhead gave me a critical look. "When?"

"Last night."

I felt her kiss the back of my hand, and I raised my head again. "I'm sorry, Nikka. I just thought it would be better if we broke up before I left."

I shook my head. "It would never be better for anything if we broke up. You're still leaving?"

We sat down on the couch, and she nodded. "I'm not the only one leaving, AJ. Dad has his job, too, and I can't leave him alone. Not now." She caressed my cheek, and I closed my eyes. "I don't want to tie you down when I'm not even here. I don't want to stop you from being happy."

I was confused. "Tie me down from what? What else is there for me here? You are my happiness, Kevyn," I replied.

"We leave on Monday," she explained, and I realized that was only two days away. "I'll give you my number in San Francisco, and we'll give it a month. If something changes in thirty days, you don't have to call. But if you still want to be together, you can call, and we can talk."

"What time should I call?" I knew there was no way I was going to change my mind.

"Six o'clock your time." I nodded. "And you don't have to call, Nikka."

"I'll call. Will you answer?"

She nodded. "If nothing's changed."

I held her hand tightly. "I don't want to do this," I said. "I don't want you to leave. I want to go with you."

"One month, Nikka. You should get back, before your parents worry about you."

I had no idea how she could be so calm about this. "I have two days left with you," I told her. "I'm not going to waste them. Mom knows about us. I'll call her later and tell her where I am."

I helped her pack. Or at least, after she caught me taking things out of boxes and putting them back on their shelves, she got a little upset and I did as I was supposed to. She said it wasn't any easier on her, but it had to be done. I didn't agree, but I didn't want to spend our last days together angry with each other, so I said I knew.

Mom was doing pretty good at being understanding, or trying to be, so when I told her what was going on, all she said was, "Be careful, Annika. We'll see you tonight."

I told Kevyn everything that had happened, and she immediately apologized for being so angry with me when she didn't know what was going on. I shrugged it off and told her about the counseling appointment, which, coincidentally enough was on Monday. 

"Maybe if you talk to them Monday it'll keep you from putting another hole in the wall," she suggested, and I rolled my eyes. She wasn't going to forget that one.

The two days went by far too quickly. I went back home that night for dinner, went right to sleep, and then got up at sunrise again and joined Kevyn for another day of packing. Patrick stayed to himself, mainly, so I didn't see too much of him, except during meals. Even then he was quiet. He was taking his wife's death very hard. Diane wanted me to be there for him, too, and I tried, but he wouldn't have any of it when I tried to start a conversation with him.

Kevyn told me he'd been like that all week.

"I think getting out of the house might help him a little, moving somewhere new." 

I agreed that made sense, and by the time I had to go home that night, the house was bare. Everything was stuffed into a box of some size, labeled so the movers would know what room to put it in. 

I didn't want to leave. It was nearing ten o'clock but I didn't want to go.

"Baby, you have to. I have to go to sleep, too."

"I'll stay here," I tried.

She shook her head, and kissed the edge of my jaw. "Go. This wouldn't be any easier in the morning, if you stayed."

I sighed, knowing she was right. I leaned down and kissed her once, for a long time, until she moved back. I pulled her close and buried my face in her neck, wanting to remember the way she smelled forever.

"Love," she said, kissing my ear, "you should go."

I stood up, and nodded, but couldn't make my feet move. She led me to the door, and kissed me briefly.

"One month."

"I'm counting," I replied, and left.

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

I went up to my room right away when I got home, and almost had a heart attack when I realized there was someone already in there.

"Dad?" I asked, feeling my heart start to beat again, albeit a little faster. His presence still scared me.

He turned around, shoe box now visible on my desk, clutching several pieces of notebook paper in his hand.

My letters from Kevyn! He was going to ruin them! I ran and snatched them from his hand before he could stop me, putting the lid back on the shoe box, protective.

"What are you doing in here?" I demanded. "Where's mom?"

"Your mother's asleep," he said. "I knew I'd find something like this. You lied to me."

I put the box back in my closet, dismayed at the mess. He must have gone though everything before he found it.

"Yeah, I lied. Did you really think I was going to talk to you when you were drunk? Get out of my room."

He took my arm, and I was afraid he was going to hit me. "You live in my house, Annika," he growled, "and you will respect me and my rules."

I just glared at him. What I was feeling for him was nowhere near respect.

"Wipe that look off your face, young lady." I didn't respond. "You will never see that girl again, do you understand me? Never! Look what she's done to you."

"What? Made me happy, made me smile? Shown me love?"

"Don't say that!"

"I love her, dad! But you don't want to hear that, do you? You don't want to hear that I'm in love, that I'm happy. You don't care. Let me go and leave me alone."

"Not until you promise you won't see her again."

I felt tears sting my eyes. "She's leaving, I don't have much of a choice."

He released my arm, then, and went back downstairs. I started cleaning my room, debating whether or not to tell my mom what happened. What could she do? I reasoned. Nothing. She couldn't make him forget what he'd read any more than she could make the bruises on my arm disappear.

There was no point in getting her upset. It wasn't like he'd actually struck me. I would just have to find more and more reasons to get out of the house. I didn't want to stay there any longer.

I thought about Bastiaan, possibly going to stay with him. But I didn't want to bother him and Bobby, nor did I want to leave my mom alone with my dad, especially since he knew now that both of his kids were gay. I suspected he'd be drinking a lot more. I wouldn't leave her to deal with that by herself; I couldn't.

By the time I finished with my room, it was close to midnight, and even if I didn't want to sleep, I was tired. I curled up on top of my blankets, not caring about the chill in the air. If I got sick, I was sure mom would stay with me, and a few days would pass that way.

I fell asleep with a single thought in my head: "Day one."

* * * * *

Day one was my first meeting with the counselor. I started thinking of everything in terms of Kevyn. How many days had gone by without her, or how many days left until I could call her. It hasn't helped my mental health any, I suppose. But I can't help it.

Mom and I went to the appointment. Dad raised all sorts of hell and said he'd never go talk to some damned shrink about what was fucked up in his life. Exact words. So Mom and I left him to his bottle.

Even though I hate to admit it, the appointment really didn't go too badly. He talked with each of us separately, my mom first, and then had us both in the room for the last few minutes. He explained that open communication was the key, and that talking to each other about what was going on might help us understand each other better. Dr. Lowen, as it were, said he would like to speak with my dad if he would come in, but I told him not to hold his breath.

I was distracted through most of the meeting, knowing at that exact moment that Kevyn was leaving. Neither my mom nor the doctor commented on it at all.

On the ride home, we tried to do what the doctor had said. Mom told me what she was feeling. I told her what had gone on the night before, and that Kevyn was moving back to California. She didn't say much of anything.

The days passed slowly. I spent a lot of time with Stacey and her mom. Dr. Lisa did wonders for my mind, allowing me to talk to her about things I was still unsure of disclosing to the counselor, and giving advice from experience. It became a second home to me. No matter what the weather, although about two weeks later the large winter storm began to move on and the snow was less frequent, I traveled over there at least once a day. They were both concerned about me and my mom, and said that if we ever needed a place to stay, to just drive over. 

When day eight came around, it was time for another visit to Dr. Lowen. He gave me a tape player, this tape player, and said he wanted me to tell it everything. Anything I wanted to say, whatever I thought he needed to know, anything. He wanted to know what was bothering me, and got the feeling that one-hour sessions weren't going to be enough. 

"It's like a journal," he said. He knew I had trouble writing, so this was the alternative, I suppose. "You can use it to go back over things that have happened, and maybe get a different perspective."

"Okay." I said that a lot.

I started it that afternoon. It's been three weeks. Today is day thirty. I haven't spoken to Kevyn or my brother in a full month. My mom and I have gotten a little closer, but that's about the only change. Mom's calling me that it's time to go. 

Eight and a half hours until I can call Kevyn.

* * * * *

I've just finished listening to these tapes. There's not much more left to say. I started from the beginning, and here we are, at the end.

With nothing…

\--------------------

I bounded down the stairs, joining my mom who was already in the car. The sun was out, though the day was still cold, and the snow just barely beginning to melt. Melted snow makes some of the nastiest slush. 

"Ready to go?"

I nodded. "Yeah, sure."

"You've got the tape player?"

"Yeah."

"And the tapes?"

"Yes, mom. I have everything." My attitude hadn't improved much.

* * * * * 

Dr. Lowen promised he would look at the tapes that night, and asked me what I had planned for the rest of the day.

"I'm going to call Kevyn tonight."

"Ah, that is tonight, isn't it?"

I nodded, with a sigh. He knew that; it was all I talked about the past sessions. I think he just liked repeating what I said.

"And what do you think she'll say?"

I shrugged, still not comfortable talking to him. I'd come to realize that he wouldn't leave me alone until I did, so I often told him what was on my mind, just to get it over with. "I just hope she'll pick up the phone."

"And if she does?"

"I'll tell her I love her, and nothing's changed."

"What if her feelings have changed?"

I growled at him, willing my blue eyes to send sparks. I didn't like what he was implying with the questioning. "Then she won't pick up the phone."

He changed topics, wisely. "How are things at home?"

"Just dandy," I snorted. "My dad drinks all the time, he yells at me and my mother, but she refuses to leave him. I'm never home much, I spend all my time with my best friend, and I have no idea how my brother is, before you ask. He hasn't called."

"Have you been out riding?"

"Yes, yesterday."

"Did you see those mustangs?"

I sighed. "Yes."

"And how did that make you feel?"

"Sad. The last time I saw them was with Kevyn."

"How did they look?"

"Fine. Are we done yet?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes, I'll speak with your mother, now." He'd become used to my moods, and no longer asked me to stay any longer than I wanted. If he did, I just stopped talking and stared at him until he told me to get my mom. 

I wasted no time in leaving the office, calling to my mom that it was her turn. I sat in a chair in the waiting room until mom was done, walking with a tissue in her hand, which she occasionally dabbed at her eyes. If there was one thing I hated the most about the sessions, it was that my mom always ended up crying.

The day didn't end fast enough. Five-thirty rolled around, and mom called me for dinner. I wolfed down the food, having no idea what I'd just eaten, but then mom asked me to clear the table and do dishes afterwards.

As it neared six o'clock, I became more and more anxious. I finished washing the last plate at 6:07, dried my hands, and dashed up the stairs. I had bought a new phone the week before, to replace the one I'd broken, and now dialed the ten-digit number Kevyn had left me with thirty days ago.

The phone rang once.

I decided I would tell her that I missed her.

The phone rang twice.

And that I loved her, very much.

Three times.

And that I hadn't been the same since she left.

The fourth ring.

I swallowed, nervous. Surely Kevyn would answer the phone now.

The answering machine picked up, playing some generic recording about how Kevyn and Patrick were unable to answer the phone just then, but leave a message, and they'd call back just as soon as they could. Beep.

I hung up.

"She didn't answer," was all I could say. "Something changed. She didn't pick up." My hands were shaking, and I didn't know what to do. I'd planned everything out based on her answering the phone. 

I didn't have a plan B. I didn't want one. Everything was supposed to work out. I'd done my part, I'd waited thirty days and called, just like I said I would. She was supposed to answer. That was just the way it was supposed to work, damn it.

The phone rang suddenly, startling me. I grabbed it before the second tone could begin to sound.

"Kevyn?" It had to be her.

The voice was gentle, but just as anxious. "AJ, did you just try to call?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, I was making dinner and couldn't catch it before the answering machine picked up."

"Oh."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a minute, and then Kevyn spoke, with a small laugh, although forced. "So tell me, did you really call just to hear the sound of my voice?"

I couldn't think of anything else to do. I burst out in tears. "Yes. I missed you, Kevyn, I missed you so much. Nothing has changed. I still love you, I love you more than I did, I think. I've been a wreck."

"Me, too," Kevyn admitted. "God, I've missed hearing from you. And I love you, too, Nikka."

I sniffled, trying to keep myself under control long enough to talk with the woman I loved, and not ruin our first conversation in thirty days with my rampant emotions. "So, what do we do now?"

"What do you want to do, baby?"

"I want to be with you. There, in San Francisco."

Kevyn frowned at the frantic tone of my voice. "What's happening there?"

"Everything. Dad's drinking, and mom's been making me go to the counselor with her. I hate it here. I haven't talked to Bastiaan since you left. I'm practically living with Stacey. Please, let me go out there," I implored the redhead.

"I'm sorry things have been so rough, honey. It's up to you, Nikka. We'd love to have you, but ultimately, it's your choice."

My heart strained at the gentle sound of the nickname, something I'd missed for so long. "Yes."

"All right, when can you be ready?"

"Now."

Kevyn chuckled, not realizing I was indeed serious. "Well, how about if I get you a ticket for this weekend. Leaving Friday night. Will that work?"

I nodded. "Definitely."

"I'll call you tomorrow night and tell you all the details, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you so much, honey. I love you."

"I love you, too. Talk to you tomorrow."

The next phone call I made was to Bastiaan. Bobby answered, and called to Bastiaan to come take the phone, when he found out who it was.

"Hello?"

"Bastiaan, it's me. Please don't hang up."

My brother sighed. "I wouldn't hang up on you, sis. What is it?"

I told him everything that had happened since the last time they'd spoken, and filled him in on the good news of the evening.

"You're not going to take over the ranch?" he asked, surprised.

"I don't think dad would let me, even if I did." In one of his drunken rages, he had ripped apart all the deeds that had my name on it. I didn't think he'd go through the effort of getting new ones printed.

"I'm sorry for all this, Annika. You know you could have come and stayed with Bobby and me."

I shrugged, only then realizing just how much I had missed talking with my brother. I knew I had been unreasonable the last time we'd talked, but I couldn't bring myself to apologize just then. I felt better just knowing we were talking. Maybe my life would get back in order. 

Apologies could wait, I figured. "It's all right. I'll be in San Francisco by the end of the week."

"Have you told mom and dad, yet?"

I shook my head. "I just got off the phone with Kevyn when I called you. I'll tell them Friday." I didn't want to give them any time to think they could change my mind. "I'm going to start packing tonight," I said, and hung up with my brother a few minutes later, glad at having fixed that relationship as well.

Breakfast Friday morning seemed to take forever, if only because I knew what was coming. After I cleared the table, I asked my parents to remain sitting, because I had something I wanted to tell them. I was nervous, but also determined. Nothing was going to keep me from Kevyn. Not this time.

"I talked to Kevyn a few days ago," I said, not bothering to sit down. "She bought me a plane ticket, and I'm leaving for San Francisco tonight."

Dad looked angry, but was silent.

Mom spoke first. "How long will you be gone?"

I took a deep breath. "I won't be coming back, mom."

Justin stood, pounding his hand on the table. Hamlet squawked. "No! You can't just run off and leave to go live with that girl!"

I knew that was going to be his reaction, but it didn't make it any easier to hear. What would I have to do to get him to be happy for me? To understand that I was finally going to have a reason to smile again?

"I'm eighteen, dad. I can do whatever I want. I won't be living under your roof anymore, so your rules don't matter." I looked to my mother again, ignoring my father as he stormed out of the room. "I'll leave you with Kevyn's number, so you can get a hold of us if you need to. Maybe you should go stay with Stacey and Dr. Lisa," I suggested. "I really don't want you to be here alone with him."

"He won't hurt me," she said, getting to her feet to fold me into a strong hug, which I returned, hoping she was right. "Promise me you'll be careful. Please take care of yourself."

I nodded. "I promise, mom." I didn't worry. I would be with Kevyn, and everything would be right in my world again. But I promised.

"I thought you didn't like all those buildings and machines."

Silence. Then, I replied: "There's a different kind of beauty in them, mom. Nothing here is beautiful to me anymore. Not even the sunrise. I can't stay here, I have to go. I know you might not understand, but my heart is there, with her. I don't know how to explain it…"

"Are you sure this is what you want?" I know mom wanted to make sure her only daughter was making the right decision.

"Not only is this what I want, but for once, I'm doing what's best. For me, and for Kevyn."

Mom took me by the hand, and started leading us up the stairs. "Come on, let's make sure you're ready to go. What time do we have to be at the airport? And then let me call Kevyn so I can talk to her." I just stared, having trouble believing this was still my mother standing before me. Maybe some fairy godmother or the good-witch had just inhabited her body. 

"I understand more than you think, sweetheart," she said, noticing my look of total disbelief. "I was in love, once. It's something you don't just leave behind."

"In love with who?"

"Your father." I frowned. "Not the man I'm living with now, Annika, but the man I fell in love with so many years ago. The way he was three months ago. This isn't him."

I nodded, a little hesitantly, after I'd taken a moment or two to think about the idea. "I guess that's true. Does he… do you think he hates me, mom?"

"He loves you, honey. And he loves Bastiaan, too. He's just very confused right now, and the drinking isn't helping. Do you have some extra cash, to take with you in case you need it?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to miss you so, so much, sweetheart," she said, tears in her eyes. 

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

I rushed her with a strong hug, standing in the middle of my room. "Thank you. I love you."

My mother held me close. "I love you, too."

* * * * *

"Now boarding all passengers with the "A" boarding pass, for flight 772 to San Francisco. We should be pushing back from the gate on-time, at seven-thirty. Now boarding all passengers in the "A" boarding group…"

I waited until the announcement was over. "That's my group. I've got to go," I said into the payphone, watching as others around me also said their goodbyes and prepared to head back to the gate.

"All right, honey. I love you, have a safe flight. I'll see you in a few hours."

"I love you, too."

Walking towards the gate, boarding pass in hand, carry-on duffel bag over my shoulder, I smiled. It was a grin that reached all the way to my eyes. The first real smile in over a month.

"Are you just visiting San Francisco?" the attendant at the check-in asked, as he tore part of my ticket.

I shook my head, and smiled again. "No. I'll be staying."

I'm finally going home…

The man smiled, nodded, and handed me the ticket stub, which I slid into my back pocket. "Enjoy your flight."


	4. Part Four

Chapter Twenty

 

I had never been so terrified of anything in all my life. The plane was going to crash, I just knew it. Was it supposed to feel like that when we took off? It made me nauseas, that couldn't be right. Once we got in the air, my ears wanted to pop, and the pressure was intense. 

The young boy sitting next me seemed familiar with my predicament.

"Here," he said, offering me a stick of Juicy Fruit gum.

I just stared at him.

"Your ears. It helps," he said, leaving it on my tray table beside the cup of ginger ale I'd requested from the flight attendant.

Taking it out of the wrapper and chewing it thoroughly, I found it did relieve some of the pressure in my ears, and went to thank the boy, but he already had his headphones on and was involved in his music, drumming his hands lightly on his thighs, eyes closed.

I spent most of the flight trying to sleep, but having no luck. Every time I tried to close my eyes, the plane would go through another cloud, according to the pilot, and that made me jump. The turbulence, slight as it was, would not let me even begin to fall asleep. The gum lost its flavor quickly, but I kept chewing. I even started blowing bubbles with it, just for something to keep my mind occupied, and keep me from looking out the window at the large expanse of sky and land below.

When we began our descent, I finally looked out the window. Were those noises supposed to be that loud? Why were pieces of the wing sliding back? We landed hard, and I was sure we were going too fast to ever stop. This time the force pushed me forward, and I strained to keep my head against the seat. Finally, the pieces of the wing moved back into place, and the pilot guided the plane to the gate, turning off the seat-belt sign.

Everyone began moving to retrieve their bags from the overhead compartments, but I just sat there. When everyone else had gotten off, the same flight attendant that had taken my drink order came over.

"Are you all right, miss?"

I blinked up at her. "I'm here?"

The woman nodded. "Yes, ma'am. All the other passengers have disembarked the plane already." She was kind, and understood from the white-knuckled grip I had taken to the armrest of her seat that it was probably best not to rush me into anything. "First time flying?"

All I could manage was a quick nod.

That got me a kind smile. "You did just fine. We've landed, now, and if you like, I can take your bag for you and show you to the gate." I decided that seemed like a pretty good idea, and agreed. The attendant took my arm and gently urged me from the seat, reaching down to remove the duffel bag from underneath.

"Jim, I'm going to take her to the gate," she told another attendant as we passed, and he nodded to her, before continuing to head down the aisle and check for items that had been left behind. 

We walked through a ramp that I doubted would hold us. The woman beside me, who said her name was Rachel, seemed to recognize my wide-eyed look for what it was. She assured me the ramp was metal and very strong, and we would be just fine. Then there was a rush of warm air, caused by the large group of people standing just inside the door, waiting to board the plane for its next flight.

"Here you are," Rachel said, handing me my bag. "You go right through there, follow the signs, and you'll see the baggage claim, okay? You can pick up your bags there. Do you have someone waiting to pick you up?"

I nodded, shouldering my duffel bag. "Yes."

Rachel gave me another smile, encouraged by the verbal response. "They can meet you down there, but they aren't able to come up to the gate. It's a big airport, so if you get lost, you can go into any store and they'll give you directions."

There are stores in the airport? Good God, how big is this place? 

"Thanks."

"Enjoy your stay." And then Rachel walked back through the door, leaving me standing amidst the hordes of people in the busy San Francisco Airport.

In the next ten minutes, I found out that the airport was actually quite large, and held a lot of stores, which were all crammed together. Some sold food, or drinks, and the large bookcases told me more than a few were offering books and magazines to read on the plane or during the wait for departure.

I picked a man out of the crowd, who looked like he knew where he was going and was only carrying one bag, and decided to follow him. He was probably going to baggage claim to pick up the rest of his bags, or so I hoped. Though once I actually looked up at the large signs, I saw one with a picture of a suitcase on it, and made a wild guess that baggage claim was in the direction of the arrow.

Spotting the boy with headphones who had given me the gum, I knew I was in the right place, and started looking for Kevyn, as well as my bag, which I figured must have been somewhere on the large metal carousel.

Twenty minutes passed before a loud and annoying beeping noise sounded, signifying that the carousel was beginning to move. Another twenty minutes passed, and bags circulated around. For once glad for my height, I was able to stand away from the crowd and still see enough of the carousel to keep an eye out for my bag. However, when the same duct-taped box went around for the fourth time, I couldn't help but begin to worry. Many of the people had already taken their luggage and left, and I was one of only three people left near the carousel; a businessman, a man in a military uniform, and a girl from Montana. 

I was so out of my element. 

I was sure I was at the right place, and for the correct flight…

Then, it came to me. They didn't have my luggage. Maybe they'd left them in Montana, or put them on another plane by accident. I had no idea what to do. Kevyn wasn't there yet, and even with all the people swarming in and out of the airport, I felt small and alone.

The gentleman next to me leaned down and finally picked up the box, and I decided he might know the right course of action.

"Excuse me, I think…"

But he left without even glancing at me. 

I paused, and went up to the man in the green military uniform, the only one remaining at the carousel besides myself. I hadn't seen any other packages, so figured maybe they lost his luggage as well.

"Do you know…?"

He looked at me, leveling a gaze that made me stop. He wasn't in the mood to be talked to, his eyes said, and I took a step back. Walking with a purposeful stride, he entered a small room behind the baggage claim, leaving me even more alone then I'd been before.

Tears began to gather in my eyes, and I slowly made my way towards the payphones, dragging my duffel bag behind me. I didn't even know who to call. There was nothing my mom could do from Montana, and if Kevyn wasn't there yet, I guessed she was on her way and so wouldn't be at home. Sitting on the small metal seat in the phone booth, I decided I at least didn't look as lost, and put my head in my hands.

"Excuse me, are you waiting for someone?" came a voice, and I jumped, looking up to see a smiling redhead standing beside me.

Kevyn's grin faded when she saw the tears running down my face. "Baby, what's wrong?"

I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her tightly, blinking back my fear. I was sure I'd never been so happy to see another human being in my life. "I can't find my bags, and nobody will talk to me, and I don't know what to do," I admitted, and felt the embrace returned.

"I'm sorry I'm late, sweetheart, parking was horrible. Come on, let's go see about your luggage, okay?"

Standing, and feeling a little better now that Kevyn had control of the situation, I followed her closely.

"Where is it?"

"I don't know, honey. But we can go find out. And they're pretty good about getting luggage back the next day, so I bet we'll have it tomorrow morning. It's okay," she said, rubbing my back, and I tried to believe her.

We walked into the same room that the soldier had entered a few minutes before, and the woman behind the desk looked up at us with tired eyes that said she knew why we were there.

"What flight?"

I blinked at the abrupt question. "772 from Livingston."

A piece of paper was put on the counter. "Fill this out."

The color drained from my face, and the attendant gave me a strange look.

Kevyn spoke up, grabbing a pen and taking the paper easily. "That's right, you don't know the address yet, do you?" She smiled at the woman behind the desk. "This is her first visit to San Fran," she explained, filling out all the information, putting a gentle hand on my arm as she handed the paper and pen back.

"Okay. We've had trouble with a few bags from that flight, and we'll give you a call tomorrow morning around ten o'clock to give you the status. We should have them delivered to you by two in the afternoon, Ms. Mulligan."

"Thank you," Kevyn responded, and then led me from the small office, offering a concerned look as we walked. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. Having the paper given to me so suddenly, with not only an expectation but almost a command to fill in the information had startled me. "So, I'll have my things tomorrow?"

"You should, yes."

"What do I do about tonight? All my clothes are in my other bags."

Kevyn smiled softly, zipping her jacket as we walked towards the short-term parking lot. "It'll be all right," she said, and as we continued to walk, I realized what had taken her so long to get into the airport.

"So, how was your flight?"

"Loud."

The sudden burst of laughter from the woman beside me made me jump a little, and Kevyn apologized. "I'm sorry for laughing, honey, that just wasn't the answer I was expecting."

"Oh."

We finally found Kevyn's car, and as I fastened my seat belt, I told Kevyn about the small problems with turbulence and the pressure in my ears. I also mentioned that there were several times that the plane seemed like it was going to fall apart, either from pressure, or its own movements in preparation for landing, and admitted that it had scared me.

"I didn't know you hadn't flown before. I would have warned you about that," came the reply. Kevyn's hand reached out to hold mine just as though we'd only been apart a day. I happily complied.

Kevyn paid for parking, and then made her way out of the airport and onto the freeway, taking my hand once she'd settled into the far lane. 

I was holding on much tighter, she realized, and glanced at me.

"What's wrong?"

I swallowed. "Do you have any idea how fast you're going?"

Kevyn chuckled. "Yes. I know exactly how fast I'm driving."

"But..." A large pickup truck passed them on the right, signaling and moving in front of them, only inches away from hitting another car, and I gasped. "Shit!"

The driver squeezed my hand. "Easy, Nikka. I promise, we'll be fine. This is the way people drive here."

"This is crazy!"

"You get used it," Kevyn said, slowing to a stop as she paid the toll, speeding up again and watching for the other vehicles merging back into their own lanes. "There's the Bay Bridge. We'll be crossing it in just a second."

"A bridge?" I was interested, now, and ignored all the other cars, paying no attention to the fact that Kevyn was driving almost ninety miles an hour. The sun was beginning to set, but I could easily see the large structure in front of us. There was no end. I could see gray metal, and cars had come from the other direction before the toll booth so I knew it had to end somewhere, logically, but had no idea where. The bridge in my dream had certainly never been this long.

"Where's the other end?"

Kevyn chuckled at the question. "Its a few miles long, baby. You'll see the other side of the bay in a few minutes." Sure enough, it didn't take long for my eyes to make out the bright lights of a city that signaled the end to the bridge. About fifteen minutes after we were back on solid ground, Kevyn made her way off the freeway and around side streets, pulling to a stop in front of a medium-sized beige house, last on the block.

"Here we are," she said, and I retrieved my duffel bag from the backseat, taking in the American flag at the front step and small potted plants with a smile. I could hear the dogs barking from inside, and my smile grew. This was something familiar.

Withdrawing a key from her pocket, Kevyn unlocked the door and motioned for me to go inside. "Dad's still working," she said, closing the door and locking it again, "but he said to tell you he'll see you in the morning. Come on, I'll show you where you can put your bag."

I followed her down the hall and into what I assumed was her bedroom, set up much the same way as she'd had it in Montana. The calendar now displayed February, I noticed, and smiled inwardly at the rainbow-colored stones.

"We don't have a guest bedroom in this house, but if you'd rather, you can stay in the den," came the offer, and Kevyn suddenly sounded nervous. I wondered if perhaps she thought something had changed, despite my profession to the contrary.

Well, that's not right, I decided, and dropped my bag by the end of the dresser, stepping closer to Kevyn and putting my arms around the petite waist, settling a soft kiss on her shoulder.

"I don't want to stay any farther from you than I have to, honey." I felt Kevyn lean against me, and nuzzled the soft neck. "I love you, Kevyn. If anything's changed, it's just that I love you more."

As if to prove it, I could feel the woman in my arms smile, recognizing the tingles with a happy heart.

"I love you, too," Kevyn returned, moving in my hold to give me a deep welcoming kiss that left both of us remembering just how long it had been. A hand on my chest stopped me from kissing her again, and for a moment, I'm sure I looked confused.

"Let's have some dinner and get you settled, baby."

Not missing the implication that we would finish later, I agreed, and helped Kevyn prepare a dinner that Patrick would be able to reheat whenever he came home. He'd been working late nights ever since they'd come back, and Kevyn said she knew it was so he wouldn't have to be around her, a reminder of the wife he'd lost. Sometimes they would eat breakfast together, but even then he was more involved in reading his paper, and rarely asked her any questions.

"It's been a long time since we really talked." I was going to offer my sympathies, but gathered that wasn't what Kevyn was searching for just then, and so stayed quiet.

While we worked, I gave Kevyn a more detailed account of just what had been going on in Montana since she left, and could almost feel the anger emanating from the small redhead. Anger… and sadness.

Before she could say anything, I bumped her gently with my hip. She glanced up, startled.

I grinned. "I'm here, honey. That's what matters now." I dropped a kiss on the fine red hair. "Let me call my mom real quick, and we can eat dinner, okay?" Kevyn agreed, and handed me the phone as she started setting the table.

I was glad when my mom answered the phone, not in the mood to deal with dad.

"Hi, mom. I'm here," I said, and Susan sounded relieved.

"I'm so glad to hear from you, honey, I was starting to get worried. How was your flight? How's Kevyn? Is everything okay?"

I chuckled at the rapid questions. "The flight was a little bumpy, Kevyn's fine, and everything's going all right. I've only been here for an hour, mom, we're just getting ready to eat dinner. But I wanted to call you first and let you know I got in safe."

"That's good, AJ. Your father is still a little upset that you left, so why don't you let me call you next time? I'll talk to you next weekend, does that sound good?"

"Sure, mom, that sounds fine. I'll talk to you later."

Susan smiled. "Good night. I miss you, baby."

I nodded. It felt strange to be talking to my mother on the phone, knowing that she was so far away. I had never been gone from home for longer than a day or two, and certainly never as far as California. That knowledge made my heart pull a little, and I had to clear my throat before speaking again.

"I miss you, too, mom. Good night."

* * * * *

Dinner went fine, though even as the dishes were washed and put away, Patrick had yet to return from work. 

"How late does your dad stay at work?" I asked, closing the cupboard after putting the last glass in its place.

Kevyn shrugged, wandering into the living room, knowing I wouldn't be far behind. "He works until about five or six, and then I don't know where he goes. Sometimes to the bar, I think. It's not far from his office. He doesn't drink, or if he does, he never smells of it by the time he gets home. I think he just sits there, to be anywhere but here," she said, sinking into the couch.

I sat beside her, rubbing her knee and leaning close. "I thought things would be better if you moved out here," I murmured softly, and suddenly Kevyn was clinging to me.

"So did I," came the quiet response, and I held her tightly, rubbing her back. When just a secure hug didn't seem enough, I picked her up and carried her into the bedroom and stretched out on the bed with her still in my arms, now receiving her full weight. Taking advantage of the change in position, Kevyn moved her head to my chest, laying on top of me. I closed my eyes at the feeling of holding her in my arms again. 

"AJ?"

"Hm?"

The redhead placed a kiss on my jaw. "I'm glad you're here." I smiled, and agreed, shifting Kevyn above me until I could kiss her neck. Kevyn indulged in the sensation for a few moments, wordlessly encouraging me, even, until I slipped my fingertips under her shirt. 

"Let me find you something to sleep in," Kevyn offered, getting to her feet quickly and searching her closet until she found what she guessed would fit, while I was wondering if perhaps I'd done something wrong to cause her sudden departure.

Having learned that keeping things, especially from Kevyn, wasn't a good idea, I sat up slowly. "Is something wrong, honey?"

Kevyn was still doing a few mental calculations as to the long shirt she held in her hands; I could almost see the thoughts going through her mind as she tried to gauge how it would fit me, and answered absently, "Of course not."

I wasn't so sure. The tone of her voice told me she wasn't certain, either. "Then why did you just get up like that?" I questioned, and all Kevyn's calculations came to a halt.

"I just thought maybe you'd be more comfortable if you could change clothes, get out of those jeans before you went to sleep," was the reply, just as unsteady as before.

Biting back a teasing comment about just how comfortable I would indeed be to get out of my jeans, I walked over to the redhead, who held the shirt in her hands, although she didn't seem to be paying any attention to it. "Kevyn, tell me what's wrong." My request was gentle, as were my hands that took the shirt and tossed it aside.

"Nothing."

"Okay. Now tell me the truth."

Deep emerald eyes found mine. "Nikka…"

"You've never pulled away from me like that before. At least, not without an explanation," I reminded, softly kissing her forehead. "What's going on?"

Kevyn wrapped her arms around me again and leaned into my embrace, resting against my shoulder. "Something changed."

I felt my breathing stop. Oh, no… "What?"

"Me."

My blue eyes showed my confusion, I have no doubt. "I don't understand, Kevyn… What do you mean?" I swallowed, feeling the fear in the pit of my stomach take hold. "Do you not want me?"

"Oh sweetheart, I do want you. So much."

"Then, what…?"

"I… I've had trouble dealing with losing my mom, and losing my dad at the same time," she said, in a voice that told me that should have explained everything. But it didn't, and I was still trying to grasp Kevyn's meaning. 

I nodded slightly that I understood having a hard time; struggling, even, with the death of her mother.

Kevyn sighed, realizing she wasn't getting through to me. We heard a key in the lock, and realized her father was finally home. His presence made up her mind. 

"It doesn't matter tonight, baby. We'll discuss it some other time."

I blinked at the sudden change in direction. Whatever was going on, it was obviously something that wasn't to be talked about when Patrick was around. That made me a little uneasy. Granted, the two weren't on great terms with each other, but to willingly and blatantly keep something from him…?

"Kevyn…"

"Please, sweetheart. Just get changed, and let's go to bed, okay?"

With a small frown, I agreed, and changed in the bathroom. Patrick's bedroom door was shut, indicating that he was home, but in no mood to be disturbed. I wondered how many times Kevyn had wanted to talk with her dad, but had come face-to-face with a closed door instead.

Climbing into bed beside the petite redhead, I couldn't help an inward smile when Kevyn settled against my side, arm over my stomach and head on my shoulder. I had missed the feeling of the woman every night, but now that we were together again, it was as though we'd never been apart. We still fit perfectly, both of us resting comfortably within the other's embrace. 

There were things that needed to be talked about. Things that needed to be brought to light, and worked through; things that had to be discussed and solved. But not just then. For that night, there was nothing more than two bodies, two hearts, two souls… together. It was all we needed.

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

The next day being Saturday, as it was, Kevyn took the opportunity to sleep in. She normally didn't have a class until noon, but had taken the day off for my arrival. She would go back to work and school on Monday. But the weekend, at least she hoped, would be for her and me.

She knew enough not to hope that her father would be involved, so I was careful not to bring up any questions regarding his whereabouts. He left at seven every morning, if not earlier, weekend or not. She had gotten used to not seeing him. That didn't mean she liked it, but it was no longer unusual for her to go for days without speaking a single word to him, even in passing. 

Such was the situation as she'd explained it to me. I couldn't help but worry at their distance, remembering how close they'd been before…

With a yawn, she woke up and stretched as she glanced at the clock. 

"Nine-thirty," she mused. "Not bad."

I felt her eyes on me, but didn't stir. I had been up early, as was my habit, but I was quite content to just lay by her side and stay cuddled close. It had been a long time since I'd had the woman I loved so near, and my body was almost as happy as my heart. I'd slept better the night before than I had in many, many weeks, and only hoped it was the same for Kevyn.

I felt her look at me, sure that I was still sleeping deeply by her side, and the tiny smile was unstoppable - I could feel it like a wave. 

When thirty days had passed, she admitted the night before, she didn't really expect me to call. She hoped with all her might, but didn't truly think it would happen. She knew I loved the ranch, and my animals, and my family. Well, my mother and brother, at least. I'd never been out of Montana. What reason was there for me to drop everything and move to San Francisco?

There wasn't one, I explained, except Kevyn. And was the love I felt enough to make me get on a plane and move away from the only home I'd ever known?

"Apparently, it is," she murmured, tucking a strand of hair back away from my face. "Because here you are…" I had one arm tucked under the pillow and the other wrapped around Kevyn, "looking peaceful and cute as you sleep." My chest moved with every breath I took, and I felt sure Kevyn was watching me breathe, proving that I was real and there. I knew, because I had done the same thing last night. I kept my eyes roaming slightly beneath closed lids, to give the appearance of dreaming. 

Kevyn reached out and gently trailed her fingers through my long brown hair.

"Her family life was getting rough," she sighed, thinking out loud, caressing the dark tresses that lay beneath her fingertips. "This was the escape she needed. But this is San Francisco; the biggest city she's ever been to. Driving on the 101 last night had her scared out of her mind. Can she really live here, and be happy?

"I know she loves me." There had never really been any doubt about that, or at least, I hoped not. "And I love her. But family life out here isn't all that great, either. Since mom died, dad can hardly stand to look at me; much less live in the same house. He works all day and most of the time neither of us gets much sleep. He's working himself ragged, and I'm…"

There was a deep sigh, this time. "What have I gotten her into?" Pausing the careful ministrations to place a kiss on the crown of my head, Kevyn got lost just staring for a moment. "Can I really offer her anything better than what was in Montana?"

Feeling the heavy thoughts in the room more than the pressure of Kevyn's lips against my skin, I groaned, and slowly opened my eyes.

"Hi," I smiled, my voice still laden with sleep, attempting to look just-woken, but obviously pleased with the sight in front of me.

Fighting the dark thoughts, Kevyn forced a smile to her face, and wrestled anything else to the back of her mind. 

I could see the war going on, until her green eyes cleared again. She didn't want to bother me with the ideas behind the words which she didn't know I'd heard. I would have to get her to explain it to me, without letting on that I already knew. 

"Good morning." She dropped a soft kiss at the corner of my mouth. "Did you sleep well?"

"Wonderful." I grinned. "Even better dreams. What about you, honey?"

"Best sleep I've had in a long time," she admitted, and even as I began pulling her close for a proper good morning greeting, Kevyn got to her feet and decided it was time for breakfast.

"How about French toast?" she offered, heading towards the kitchen without waiting for an answer.

I frowned. This was strange. I'd have to figure out exactly what was going on with Kevyn. And soon. I wasn't sure how much more of this pulling away I could take.

* * * * *

My suitcase was delivered at ten-thirty, and the airport called at eleven, to make sure it had arrived and everything was taken care of. Kevyn thanked them, and assured them everything was fine. I happily changed into my own clothes, and then sat down with my girlfriend to enjoy the rest of our breakfast-turned-brunch.

"This tastes great," I complimented, and Kevyn was pleased she had a chance to show me her own culinary skills.

"I'm glad you like it."

I nodded, finishing my glass of cranberry juice before asking, "So, what's the plan for today?"

Kevyn began clearing the table. "Whatever you want, baby. If you want to unpack first, that's fine. We can visit downtown and I can show you around a few places, or we can stay in and relax." She placed a kiss my shoulder as she came back to the table and collected my plate, telling me to remain sitting. "I know how jetlag can be. Anything is just fine."

Pretending to think about it, though I was feeling a little tired and hoped to get some serious talking done, I decided exploring the great city of San Francisco could wait for a little while.

"I think, right now, it'd be nice just to stay around here. But maybe tonight we can go somewhere…?"

Kevyn chuckled softly, but agreed. "If you're up to it, sweetheart. Feel like unpacking for a bit?"

"Sure."

I had brought mostly clothes, but a few knick-knacks and sentimental items as well, and Kevyn found places for everything. She had cleared out two drawers and some closet space three days before, and I felt appropriately moved-in just a little while later. A few picture frames of my own set near Kevyn's, and my art portfolio was beside the desk, close to Kevyn's collection of writings. Yes, the familiarity that caused brought with it a nice sense of belonging.

Two of the dogs came in from playing outside, and panted in the doorway for a few moments before Kevyn called them in to lie down. They flopped down at her feet, apparently having no trouble remembering their other mistress, greeting me with a nonchalant look of hello. Either that or I guessed they were too worn out to care. Being a good-sized house on the corner of the block, they had a large front and back yard, plenty of room for even a half-dozen canines to romp until their hearts were content.

Enjoying the sight of my most precious items mingled in amongst Kevyn's, I pulled the petite redhead into my arms and kissed the base of her neck.

Green eyes danced at the unexpected affection. "How about a movie, baby?"

I quickly agreed. Cuddling on the couch sounded fun, and often led to something even more entertaining than the film.

"Go pick something out, if you recognize anything, and I'll be right there."

Heading into the living room while Kevyn made a stop down the hall, I scanned the cases until a scene caught my eye. I raised an eyebrow. Two girls, obviously in a romantic film. What was more, they were both of different races. That sounded like it promised to be an interesting watch, I decided, and pulled it from the shelving under the television cabinet.

"Find something?" Kevyn grinned when I held up my choice. "The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls in Love it is," she nodded, putting the DVD in the player and grabbing the remote. I made myself comfortable on the couch, and pulled Kevyn towards me when she was within reach.

"What happened here?" I asked, as I traced a scrape on the inside of her forearm. It didn't appear to be infected, but she flinched a little when I moved my fingers over the light scab. 

"Oh, nothing. I just scratched it on the corner of my desk at school the other day." Kevyn masked the gesture of shrugging off any further questions by snuggling closer to me, whispering, "Shh, it's starting." 

I sighed. I couldn't have missed that change of subject if a plane suddenly landed in the living room, but played along for the time being, and wrapped my arms around Kevyn securely, not mentioning anything else. Kevyn was hiding something, not just from Patrick, now, but from me, as well. And that made me more than a little uneasy. Before long, I'd have to start some gentle prying.

* * * * *

That "before long" actually turned out to be quite soon. I had pulled Kevyn nearer, holding her securely, and had - rather absently - began lightly rubbing her side. When the redhead shifted a little at that, I did my best not to feel hurt by what I perceived as rejection, and moved the attention to a safer body part - like her stomach. My hand there, gently, often relaxed her. This only caused Kevyn to stiffen up even more.

I sighed, and reached for the remote, hitting pause. We had barely gotten through the first few scenes; the actresses had yet to kiss, for crying out loud!

"Kevyn, what's going on?"

"What are you talking about?" was the counter.

A dark eyebrow was raised just slightly to imply that I wasn't buying it.

"Nikka, what are you talking about?" Kevyn wasn't going to just give in.

I shook my head. "Open communication, Kevyn. Come on, honey, talk to me. I know something's wrong, but you're not telling me what it is. So, again… what's going on?" Dr. Lisa and Stacey had insisted it was important that I talk about things, especially with Kevyn. Not mentioning how I was feeling could be more painful in the long run, they'd said. I decided I would work on that, and see how it turned out.

Kevyn moved even farther away, now, putting nearly a foot between us. She was quiet for a beat too long, before replying, "Nothing, Nikka. Really."

A little anger began to mix in with my hurt and concern. "You're lying to me."

Emerald eyes were dim, but still managed to look indignant at the accusation.

"You were going to tell me last night, before your dad came home. He's not here now, baby, and you know better than I do that he's probably not going to be back any time soon. So talk to me. Please, honey. Don't shut me out like this, don't push me away." Blue pools of sapphire flashed gray with the strength of love I was trying to send to the woman across from me. "I want to be here for you, Kevyn." 

With a deep sigh, Kevyn agreed that I was right. She wasn't being fair. And besides, she had said we'd discuss it later…

Removing her shirt to reveal just her bra underneath, she waited.

I frowned. So Kevyn took off her shirt… what did that have to do with the price of tea in China? Remembering the reaction I'd gotten after touching her side and stomach, I let my eyes drift over the said expanses of skin, and I raised my head quickly to meet Kevyn's gaze when it hit me.

Scratches. A few had bruises around them. Some were fading into a yellowish color, while scabs were beginning to form on the cuts, although several more were obviously fairly recent. Only one mark was on her arm, already almost healed, which she'd said was from an accident at school, and the rest were along her upper abdomen.

I could feel crimson begin to cloud my vision. My fists clenched, and I growled, "He's hurting you?" I was going to kill him. That's all there was to it. Blood relation, father or not, he was a dead man.

Kevyn blinked, obviously surprised. "What?" Then she realized what I was thinking. "Oh, no. I don't think dad would ever lay a hand on me, he's not around enough anyhow."

"Then, who…?"

"Me."

I fell silent for a moment, absorbing that, cooling my temper from a boiling rage to something more conducive to understanding with some semblance of control. "You…"

Kevyn nodded. "I just had so much… I don't know… anger, sadness… feeling, I guess. There's just so much, it makes me numb inside, and I can't take it. I thought maybe if I could turn it into something tangible… If I could feel something…"

Seeing Kevyn look so depressed and so upset with herself, wanting to explain but not finding the words, I reached out and placed my right hand on her knee, squeezing gently.

"Honey, I think this is what you might call preaching to the choir." Kevyn looked up, frowning slightly. Bringing my hand into the space between us, I flexed my fingers a few times. The scars on my knuckles were still dark and angry, though the scabs had healed almost completely. The deep purple would fade into a red, and eventually, all that would be left as evidence to my bout of rage would be a mar on my skin from the healed tissue.

"I know about wanting to make pain into something physical, baby. Something you can deal with. You can bandage cuts and watch them as they heal. You can't do that with what you feel inside. And it just seems to be flowing in your blood, making it burn. If you can just let it out, you think you'll feel so much better." I joined our hands easily. "I understand, Kevyn. If I hadn't been able to spend most of my time with Stacey and Dr. Lisa, if I'd have had to stay in the house, feeling my dad always around, there'd be a lot more holes in my wall and a lot more scars on my hands. You haven't had anywhere else to go besides here, baby, no one to talk to about this. Until now."

Pulling the injured arm closer, I placed a few soft kisses on the cut, until Kevyn had tears streaming down her face, and I pulled her onto my lap into a fierce embrace. "I'm here now, sweetheart. We can do this together, okay?" I kissed the side of her head. "Talk to me. I'm here. I'll always listen."

Kevyn cried into my shoulder, clutching to me with all her strength. Rocking us back and forth, I held her close and kissed her face, stroking her hair continuously, and always - always - ensuring Kevyn of my presence. There would be no overnight fix of this… I knew that. But together, we could find a way through it; find a safer outlet for Kevyn's heaviest feelings.

We had to.

The movie was forgotten as we fell asleep, never losing our hold on each other. I awoke a few hours later, the TV playing static as the pause had long since worn off, a crick in my neck and a stiffness to my shoulder, but I didn't dare move. Kevyn was sleeping soundly, peacefully, sprawled out on top of me, hands clasped around my neck, which accounted for the crick, I guessed. The head of tousled red hair was lying on my shoulder, very nearly buried there. I didn't mind the position, myself.

Focusing on not disturbing her, I thought about what Kevyn had told me, and how I could help.

Dr. Lowen gave me the tape recorder because I couldn't write in a journal, I remembered. I wonder how long it's been since Kevyn did any writing. Maybe she could work on writing in a journal… It was another way to express your feelings, I knew, and understood you could write anything that was building and tangling inside and let it out, and then throw it away.

Kissing the top of her head, I reminded myself to ask Kevyn about the possibility of turning to her writing instead of cutting. Placing soft kisses against the red hair, I glanced up when the front door opened. Patrick was home, probably for lunch. Realizing that Kevyn was still sound asleep without her T-shirt on, I grabbed the Afghan from the back of the couch and covered her, watching the man walk into the house.

He appeared a little surprised at seeing us still in the house.

Upon noticing his sleeping daughter, however, he merely nodded and entered the kitchen, moving quietly.

I sighed. Kevyn had been right; it didn't seem that Patrick wanted to b in the same room with her, much less inquire as to how she was feeling. Nor did he seem particularly concerned with me being there, not giving me so much as a "Hello", or a "Welcome."

Maybe he didn't realize what he was doing, when it came to ignoring Kevyn. I decided I'd have to talk with him about that.

Within ten minutes, he was gone again, having made a sandwich and taken a container of leftovers from dinner the night before as his lunch.

The door was shut and locked, and I removed the blanket so Kevyn wouldn't be too warm. I wouldn't say anything to my girlfriend about the lunch-time visit, for fear of making her feel even worse about missing a chance to see her father.

Reaching for the remote control, carefully, so I didn't bother Kevyn, I channel-surfed for about twenty minutes before finally deciding on cartoons. There appeared to be a marathon of episodes featuring a yellow sponge as the main character... I was strangely intrigued.

Kevyn awoke in the middle of the second episode, and chuckled, startling me a bit.

She gave me an amused look, upon noticing my choice of entertainment.

I shrugged. "Only thing on." I turned my attention to the red-head. "How are you feeling?"

Kevyn smiled, a genuine smile, and I felt the familiar tingling sensation come back even stronger. "Better." She was quiet for a moment, and then leaned closer to say, "Thank you, for listening."

I pulled her closer, and dropped a kiss on her shoulder. "Always. Do you want to finish the movie?"

"Sure."

We finished watching the movie in silence, although for the most part, it was a comfortable one. Kevyn was still a little tense, but put her T-shirt back on and seemed to relax a bit more. I began to understand that she was so used to hiding the marks, and even though I knew, she still felt better with a shirt over them. I kept this in mind, and was careful to avoid rubbing her sides, although I still kept a tight hold.

"Honey?" I asked, when the DVD had been replaced in its case and rightful place on the shelf.

She was in my arms again, curled close, and gave a sound that I took as a sign for me to continue.

"I was thinking… have you been keeping up on your writing lately?"

If she knew where I was going with the question, she didn't let on. "Not very much, no. Class keeps me busy."

I kissed her hair. "Maybe you should try taking it up again."

"Why?"

"I think… well, maybe it will help so you do that instead of cut," I said, explaining my thoughts in a rush of air, somehow irrationally afraid in that moment that perhaps she would be upset with me for trying to tell her what to do, maybe it was something too personal, yet….

She sat up a little more, taking my hands in hers. "Nikka, I appreciate the suggestion. And I think it's a good one. But this isn't just about having another outlet for what I'm feeling. It's like… an addiction. It gives me something to feel; granted, pain, but still. I feel something when I'm just numb inside from everything." She interlaced our fingers, and squeezed my hand gently. "That's why there are cuts on my stomach… every time I breathe, I feel them pull and it reminds me, again. Or I turn in my seat to talk to someone, and… 

"Writing on paper can't do that."

I must have had some sort of blank expression on my face, because she sighed quietly.

"It's not just seeing the blood and being able to do something about it, Annika. It's also feeling the pain. Knowing that I can feel. Cutting reminds me that I'm alive, even when all there is, is emptiness inside.

"I've cut before. I had stopped about six months before I met you. I was determined to stop. Even with everything that happened with my mom getting sick, I wasn't going to cut. I threw myself into my writing, but the thing was, I got addicted to that, too. I would stay in my room, just writing, not really saying anything, just writing, for hours. I was late to school a few times because of it, and when my teachers started getting on me about not being on time, I slowly pulled myself out of it.

"And by that time, I knew about Tamara, and we knew the extent of mom's cancer. I wanted to cut so bad when I found out," she confessed, "but I didn't. I stayed out in the living room with mom and dad, just so I wouldn't be in my room, so I wouldn't be tempted by anything I knew I kept in there. I kept myself really busy, to try not to think about it.

"But, then, with everything lately…" She sighed. "The urge came back and I couldn't fight it."

I admit the first thought that brought into my mind scared me. Yes, I'd given in to my own feelings of self-injury, what with my bout with the wall, but as of yet, it seemed my talks with Stacey and Dr. Lisa had stopped an addiction from forming. Kevyn hadn't had that. She was addicted to the feeling, she said so herself. Where could that lead?

"Kevyn, I don't… I don't want you to die."

"I don't want to die either, Nikka," she replied, evenly. "Honey, this isn't about committing suicide. I don't want to do that." Red hair shifted as she shook her head slightly. "I don't expect you'll understand completely, baby. But I'm glad you want to."

I processed this. "Of course I want to, Kevyn. I want to help you; I want you to know you can talk to me about this. About anything."

She kissed my palm. "I do know, Nikka."

It was agreed then, silently, that there would be no more talk about cutting today. I had plenty to try and wrap my mind around, and I was sure that the conversation had drained Kevyn enough already. I didn't imagine it was easy for her to discuss.

"Hey," I smiled softly, kissing her shoulder, "what's a girl got to do to convince her lovely girlfriend to have dinner with her?"

She returned my smile, and got to her feet, leaving me sitting on the couch. "Now, that depends on who's cooking."

"Me!"

Kevyn laughed. "Well then, that's all the convincing I need."

Dinner was uneventful, unless you count the fact that I insisted on feeding Kevyn a few carrots by hand, which of course led to her doing the same for me. This, in turn, gave way to a heated kissing session in the kitchen, dinner forgotten for nearly half an hour. I suppose what I meant to say before is that when we returned to our chairs to finish dinner, it went by uneventfully. 

We saved a portion for Patrick and Kevyn put it in the microwave, leaving him a note on the table to let him know there was dinner waiting for him.

Then we decided it was time for bed. We both changed into our pajamas, Kevyn opting to change in the bathroom. I didn't say anything. She still wasn't comfortable with me seeing the marks, and I decided I could be okay with that if she needed

She curled up against me like always, and we fell asleep in just a few minutes, our breathing evening out to a single rhythm. I realized that for everything that may happen, for anything we might tell one another or for anything we might keep from each other, we would always have a connection our subconscious would recognize, if nothing else. In sleep, we sought the other's presence.

That thought comforted me, and I drifted off easily.

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

I felt Kevyn stretch beside me the next morning, and wondered what she was doing up so early. I doubted it was past six.

She kissed my forehead. "Time to get up, honey."

I blinked. "Why? What time is it?"

"Almost nine," came the reply, "and if we're going to see the city, we'd better get started."

Almost nine? Wow. I'd slept a long time… "The city?" I was awake. I dressed quickly, and then urged Kevyn to hurry.

She chuckled at my enthusiasm. "Do you want breakfast before we go, or would you rather eat somewhere in the city?"

I thought about that for a moment. "Maybe somewhere in the city."

"Okay, baby. Well, are you ready to go?"

I grinned, and kissed her softly. "Yeah. Let's go."

She took my hand and we walked out the door. When we didn't stop at the car, I gave her a confused look.

"Parking is tough, not to mention expensive if you can find it. We'll walk around for a little while and then take BART downtown and then MUNI to the Castro district."

"BART?"

"Bay Area Rapid Transit," she explained. "It's kind of like a train. MUNI is similar."

"Oh. And what's the Castro district?"

She smiled, and squeezed my fingers before releasing my hand as we reached the corner of the street. "I think you'll like it," was all she said.

I decided she would know better than me when it came to things to do in the area, so told her she was probably right.

When we got to the BART station, she put money in a machine, and pulled out a ticket, giving it to me before feeding the machine more bills for her own ticket.

"Don't lose that, baby."

I put it in my back pocket, but then she walked towards a small entryway guarded with a turnstile of sorts. Putting the ticket in a slot in the top, it popped up on the other side and the thick plastic pieces slid apart to let Kevyn through. I did the same with mine, and then replaced it in my back pocket.

"I thought we were going to have breakfast first."

We walked up to a platform, and Kevyn sat down on a large round bench as she replied, "We are, baby, but we've got to get into the city first."

I sat down beside her. "You mean, what we walked through wasn't San Francisco?"

"Oh, no. San Fran is much bigger."

"Bigger?" Livingston was a good-sized city, but the streets we'd just strolled through seemed to house the same population. And here she was telling me that San Francisco itself was even larger?

Wow. It had to be the size of Montana.

She chuckled, and then pulled me over to a chart mounted on the wall. "See this line?" I nodded. "We're here, at El Cerrito del Norte." I had no idea what that meant, but I was pretty sure it wasn't English. 

"We'll go here," she pointed to a dot a few inches away, "Civic Center, to get downtown. And this," another dot near the center, "is the stop for Castro. We can transfer at MacArthur.

"If you ever want to ride on your own, you can count the number of stops if you want, but just about anyone will help you, I'm sure." I looked at the map, making a note of which dots I would need to remember. "Okay?"

Just then, a rather monotonous mechanical voice over the loud speaker announced, "Outbound train to SFO will be arriving in two minutes."

"That's us." Leading me by the hand, we stood by the platform for a few minutes, and I watched the different people that walked past us. Some were in business suits, or casual clothes, and one boy that looked to be about sixteen was wearing all black with spiked hair and earrings in more places than just his ears. He held my attention until a screeching of brakes and rush of air told me the BART train had arrived. It came to a sudden stop, and the doors slid open suddenly.

Kevyn and I merged into the crowd of people and made our way onto the train. Leaving the front seats open for any elderly or handicapped travelers, I followed the small redhead a few cars back to one that was mostly empty, taking two seats in the rear.

"We're going to be moving backwards, honey, is that okay?"

I didn't quite understand, but agreed. Taking a look around, I saw advertisements plastered on the top of the wall near the ceiling, above metal pipes that served as handholds if one had to stand, I assumed, and a sign showing there was no smoking allowed, nor food or drink permitted. The few people who were occupying other seats in the section all seemed involved with their newspapers or books, and I felt no one was really paying any attention to us, so I reached out and rested my hand on Kevyn's knee, obscured as we were by the seats in front of us.

She smiled and covered my hand with hers.

Then an electronic ding sounded and a voice warned us that the doors were closing.

And then we were moving. The sensation of speeding through a darkened tunnel backwards had me more nauseas than flying in a plane, I quickly decided, and began to look for a seat that was facing the same direction that the train was going.

Kevyn noticed my slight discoloration for what it was, and walked with me to a different seat, holding on to the metal poles along the top to keep our balance.

I felt much better once I sat down in the new seat, and looked around to see if anyone else had been as disoriented as me.

No, it appeared they were all used to it.

Our stop arrived rather quickly, and I was glad we'd chosen a car that wasn't very crowded when I saw the hordes of people rushing the doors when they opened. A few people were even pushing bicycles, and I watched, intrigued, wondering if they rode them everywhere.

As other people began to board the train we'd just vacated, I realized Kevyn was no longer beside me, and panicked that I had lost her in the crowd. Stretching to my full height, I searched for the crop of fiery red hair, and tried to remember just what she was wearing.

Winding my way through the mass, I stepped free of the rush and looked around again. Still not seeing Kevyn, I began to panic a little. There was no way I could find my way around San Francisco. I could probably get back to the house, but we were planning to spend the day in the city, and I didn't want it to be over before we'd gotten started.

Then, suddenly, she was there, grasping my hand.

"Are you daydreaming, honey? Come on."

I didn't mention my moment of anxiety, and simply shrugged, letting her lead the way, never taking my eyes off her.

I was amazed by all the large buildings. She pointed out a huge Borders bookstore, and something called "The Cheesecake Factory". Walking along the streets and into the area designated "Union Square", I watched a few people throwing a Frisbee in a nearby park, and even more sitting under trees with books to read, enjoying the weather. Two or three others were jogging on the sidewalk, easily moving around those that were standing or walking, with only a quick call of, "On your right," or, "Coming up on your left".

"Any ideas on breakfast, baby?"

I shook my head, still fascinated by all the sights. "Whatever you'd like is fine," I replied absently, enjoying the people-watching.

Noticing that I was distracted, Kevyn smiled softly. "We'll go to the Cheesecake Factory some time for dinner, Nikka."

She pointed out the other buildings, like the Disney store and a Tiffany's, and a Westin hotel. I was amazed that so many buildings were crammed together in the same area. It was just like the shops at the airport.

"Are you hungry?"

"A little." I laughed to myself as a girl, the only one playing Frisbee with a group of guys, leapt into the air for a spectacular catch. I took back what I'd thought before about colors or plants being of a lesser quality in the city. The bright, lush grass together with the healthy trees was green enough to nearly be overwhelming.

Kevyn bumped my shoulder. "You're so helpful. Do you want to just get something in Castro? We can head that way in a little bit."

That was agreed, and we spent another half hour just touring the area, before getting back on BART and finding the MUNI transfer-station that would take us to our next destination.

"And this time we'll be getting off at the Castro Street stop." The K Line Outbound was the one we were waiting for, but it arrived fairly quickly, and when my stomach began to growl, Kevyn assured me it wasn't a very long ride.

If Kevyn noticed any of the strange looks we received from a few of the passengers as we exited, she didn't give any indication.

When we climbed the stairs to the street level, the first thing I noticed was the large rainbow flag. It was almost impossible to miss. And then, at every corner and in front of almost every shop there were smaller rainbow flags. The sidewalk was already quite full of people, taking their turns at the crosswalk. More than a few were taking their dogs out for a walk, too.

We walked over to the Castro Theater first, not to see a movie, just because Kevyn told me it was very much a famous theater. I figured telling people I'd been inside the famous Castro Theater would probably sound pretty good. A man inside explained about the restoration efforts after the original structure was damaged in a fire, and my focus was on the large chandelier hanging above our heads.

It was decided we would come back at another time to watch a film on its only screen.

Before we went any further, we had a quick lunch at a small café. The waitress that served us was very entertaining. She greeted us with, "Well, come on in, baby. Come on, have a seat right here. Here are your menus, honey, and I'll be right back to get your drinks." Then she bustled off to help other customers, returning a second and third time to our table, bringing us a wonderful meal. I had macaroni and cheese, a fact which caused Kevyn to give me a fond look I didn't quite understand.

After bidding our waitress goodbye, Kevyn urged me to walk around to the side of the restaurant and take a look. A huge and intricately detailed mural had been drawn, depicting several people and scenes, such as a police officer with a big heart - literally, a body that seemed to be flying, naming the five Chakras which Kevyn explained to me briefly. I took my time examining the work for its style and content, loving all the history and warmth of which it told. I especially enjoyed the few bricks at the top, on which people had painted the date and their names, which Kevyn read. Most were couples with dates more than twenty years before, and I smiled to myself, wondering if they were still together.

No reason that they couldn't be, I mused, happily, thinking of how I hoped Kevyn and I would still be as in love with each other in twenty years as we were right then.

Then we browsed the numerous stores. I never knew so many things could be made in rainbow patterns. Kevyn bought two candles and a card she found to be amusing.

When I asked her who she was going to send the card to, she chuckled. "No one, honey. I just think it's funny."

We came to a bookstore, and wandered inside. Or, more accurately, Kevyn seemed to gravitate towards it without realizing it, and I followed.

"It'll just take a minute, I only want to see if they have a few books I've been waiting for," Kevyn explained, and I got the feeling she was worried that the environment would make uncomfortable or something.

"Take as long as you need," I smiled, content to trail behind patiently as she scanned the shelves.

It was mostly women in this particular shop, although a few men were glancing at titles, too. One couple with a small baby in a stroller caught my attention, and I watched them for a moment while Kevyn continued her search.

One woman, with medium-length brown hair and a rainbow bracelet, was looking at the books stocked on the shelves while her blonde partner kept the baby giggling.

"How about this one?" the brunette asked, and the blonde took a moment to read the back of the book.

"I think she'll like it." She turned to the youngster, eyes wide, asking, "What do you think, little one? Do you think your Aunt Jill is going to like this book?"

The child, who couldn't have been more than about seven or eight months, I guessed, laughed her agreement, immediately thereafter attempting to eat her feet.

"Here, I'll take her. Come here, precious. Mama's gonna tickle you!"

Smiling warmly, the blonde kissed the top of her partner's head, tucking the book under her arm as the three made their way to the front counter to pay, discussing where they would stop for lunch, or whether the baby was ready for a nap.

The sight stayed with me for the rest of the day, leaving me with a combined feeling of happiness and yearning.

Having found what she was looking for, Kevyn came up to me after she'd paid for the books. Finding me staring down an empty aisle, a bit lost in my thoughts, as I was, she asked, "Is everything all right?"

I smiled. "Yeah," and kissed the top of her head.

There was a Starbucks not far, so we stopped in for a cup of coffee and caramel apple cider, for me. I grinned to myself when I realized there was a dog bowl chained just outside the door, specifically so people could stop and let their dogs enjoy a drink, too. I assumed Castro was also known for its friendliness towards canines.

* * * * *

We watched people interact with the dogs and their owners, both getting much attention. I questioned if Kevyn had ever brought her dogs to the area, but she laughed and said if she took one, the others would be jealous, and walking all six of them at the same time wasn't a bright idea. 

She knew that from experience.

After about another half-hour of wandering the streets of Castro, we took MUNI and BART back to the house. More of the cars were filled with people on the way back, so I sat a few inches away and kept my hands in my lap, careful of my actions, not wanting to do anything to draw negative attention to us. As it was, I could see a few people talking lowly to their seatmates, then looking over at us with a short nod.

It wasn't a happy look, either. I wasn't sure Kevyn noticed, though how she could miss even the feeling of hostility, I didn't know.

When our stop came, we walked through the station wordlessly, not speaking until we were outside.

"Did you see the looks they were giving us?" I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets. I still felt their eyes on us, and it made me feel a little uncomfortable.

Kevyn rested her hand at the small of my back, the most comforting motion she dared. "Yes. I didn't keep an eye on them, but I didn't have to. I knew they were there, and I knew what they were saying."

I blinked. "What?"

Her hand dropped as we crossed the street to her block. "It's not important," she said. "They were just talking."

The moment we stepped foot in her house, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close against me. "I've wanted to do that all day," I admitted, feeling her smile and lean back to return the embrace.

I sat down and sketched a little after dinner, encouraging her to sit beside me with her journal. But she didn't write. After ten minutes of simply staring at the blank page, just holding the pencil lax in her hand, she sighed and gave up. 

I wondered what those people on the train had said.

She placed the items on the coffee table. "Would it bother you if I watch TV for a little while?"

"Not at all," I replied, reaching for a green pencil from the extensive kit I'd received for Christmas.

She started watching an improvisation comedy show, as it was, and once I was finished giving a rough form to the people in my drawing, I joined her. The show was quite funny, and the actors came up with some outrageous responses to the topics.

At ten, when the local news station began announcing the latest headlines, I stifled a yawn and decided it was time to get some sleep. As much fun as we'd had visiting the city, it had definitely worn me out. Patrick had come home about an hour before, walking directly to his bedroom without so much as a glance at either one of us. Kevyn didn't seem to pay any attention, and I guessed she was used to the treatment.

I placed a soft kiss on the crown of red hair. I didn't have to move very far, seeing how she'd fallen asleep against my shoulder almost twenty minutes earlier.

"Sweetheart," I called, rubbing her shoulder. "Come on, time for bed. You don't want to sleep out here, anyhow." With my right arm tingling as it was, I didn't trust that I would be able to carry her. Waking her gently, I urged her to get changed so we could go to bed and she could go back to sleep.

By the time I'd taken my sleep clothes from the second drawer of the dresser and emerged from the bathroom fully dressed, Kevyn was sprawled out on the bed, apparently having decided changing wasn't all that necessary. Her pajamas were still folded on the side table where I'd left them for her. I wasn't sure she'd be comfortable sleeping in jeans, but assumed she didn't mind, judging by the soft snores I heard.

Smiling fondly, I slipped under the covers carefully and stretched out beside her. Not that I really worried about waking her. As sound asleep as she was already, I doubted jumping on the bed would do anything to disturb her.

No sooner had I settled myself, than she moved closer, throwing an arm over my chest and grasping my shoulder, holding me where I was. I wrapped my other arm around her, and she snuggled into my side.

"Thank you for a wonderful day," I murmured, before closing my eyes and falling into a slumber as deep as that of the woman beside me.

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

I was awakened the next morning by the sound of a drawer slamming shut.

Seeing me stir, I got a small smile. Kevyn dropped her pajamas on the floor with no hesitation, dressing quickly

As she tucked her shirt into her jeans, she walked over and kissed my forehead. "I didn't mean to wake you, baby. Go back to sleep. I'm just running a little late this morning." She turned to grab a jacket, and I glanced at the clock.

"It's only seven-fifteen," I noted, stretching my arms over my head. "I thought your first class wasn't until eight."

"On Mondays and Wednesdays, you're right." A brush was taken to the fine red hair, quickly. "But I still have to get to BART and catch the car to Berkley."

"Oh."

She picked up her backpack and settled it over one shoulder. "Anything you want to eat or drink, just help yourself. You know that, right?" Another kiss, to my cheek this time. "I love you. I'll see you after work tonight."

"Love you, too."

And she was out the door.

I took a long shower, simply standing under the spray of hot water for several minutes. By the time I had toweled dry and changed into comfortable clothes for a day around the house, it was time for Kevyn to begin class.

Finding a box of oatmeal, I made myself some breakfast and ate at the kitchen table as I watched the clock change to display 8:30. I washed and dried my bowl and spoon and put them away before wandering into the living room, turning on the TV, and feeling my brain cells die for about an hour and a half.

"Two hundred channels and nothing on," I groaned, giving up on the TV and turning on the radio instead. I took out my portfolio and drew for a little while as I listened to the local pop station.

When noon rolled around, I picked up the phone and debated calling my mom. I missed her, and wondered what she was doing just then, if she and my father were getting along. Maybe there were better off now, since I'd left.

Or maybe I would call Stacey. No, she'd be at school. It was two in the afternoon in Montana, and I knew high school was still in session, at least for another hour. Not that it mattered in regards to Stacey. She didn't have any high school classes in the afternoon, although she had told me just before I left that she was beginning to take some credits at the local community college, in an effort to get a jump start on her prerequisites for a degree. I was proud of her. 

But that meant she wouldn't be at home.

I still remembered the phone number my brother had given me for his apartment. He was probably my best change at having someone other than my father answer, and at catching someone at home.

The first time I dialed, I forgot about the area code and had to apologize to a non-English speaking woman for almost five minutes before she understood that I'd called the wrong number by accident.

Dialing the full eleven digits this time, it rang two times before a deep voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Bobby, this is AJ. Is my brother there?"

The man smiled into the phone. "Good to hear from you, AJ. But I'm afraid Bastiaan isn't home right now. He has home period for the sixth hour, so he should be here in just a few minutes, though."

I sighed, disappointed. "Okay. Well, can you tell him I called?"

"Of course…" He paused, and I heard the squeak of a door as it swung open. "Oh, he just walked in. Hold on a moment."

I heard my brother's voice as he greeted his partner.

"There's a phone call for you, Bastiaan."

"Who is it?"

Bobby chuckled. "Just go say hi."

A muffled sound as he picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hey, Bastiaan."

"Annika!" he exclaimed, and I grinned. "How are you? Is everything okay?"

"It's good," I said, reclining on the sofa. "I'm staying with Kevyn in California right now. Her dad is still really upset about losing Diane, and it seems like he puts a lot of that on Kevyn. But Kevyn and I are doing great."

"That's good. I'm so glad you called, sis."

"Me, too. Have you heard from mom lately?"

"Bobby, can you take this bag for me, honey? Yeah, just put it in the living room. I'll have to work on it in a few minutes." Turning his attention back to me, he replied, "She called just yesterday, actually. Said that dad hasn't been drinking as much the past few days, if only because he has to stay around the ranch now. Neither of us is there to help him any.

"Mom said she wouldn't be surprised if he decided to downsize the herd so he could manage them himself. You know he'd rather not have to hire anyone new for something he can do on his own."

I nodded. "Yeah. Mom always said he was too stubborn about that. But at least he's not drinking." I thought of Kevyn's own admitted addiction, and wondered if one day she wouldn't feel the urge anymore. If maybe there was something I could do to help…

"AJ? You still there?"

"Oh," I blinked. "Yeah, sorry." I wanted to tell my brother everything. I knew I could depend on him to have some good advice, he might even know just what to do. But I bit my tongue. I had no place telling Bastiaan what was going on. Kevyn would surely be upset with me, if I did.

No, this was one I had to figure out on my own.

My brother chuckled, having no clue as to my solemn musings. "Got distracted by something bright and shiny, huh?"

I growled at him, and wished there was a way to reach through the phone line and poke him in the forehead. "I'll show you bright and shiny…"

He laughed. "It really is good to hear you're doing better, AJ. Give me your number there, and next time, I'll call you. But I've got to get going, now. We need to eat lunch and I've got some homework yet."

"Okay, Bastiaan," I agreed, reciting Kevyn's phone number to him as he jotted it down. "You guys take care. Love you, bro."

"I love you too, AJ. Talk to you later."

And I was left with a dial tone.

I decided to try giving Stacey a call, but four rings later I was met with an answering machine. I left a short message with Kevyn's number if she wanted to return my call.

Then, I took a chance after all, and dialed the number that would ring the phone in my parents' kitchen. In the middle of the third ring, the voice of Justin Mulligan came across the line.

"Hello?"

I opened my mouth to reply, to tell him it was his daughter and hope he would have some sort of response other than slamming the phone down, but I found no words. As he repeated, "Hello?" I hung up, closing my eyes.

It took me a moment to realize I was shaking. He was hundreds of miles away, and I knew that. Hell, he'd just answered the phone in Montana. There was no way he could be any where else. Even so, I felt scared. It was painfully obvious, as I curled up on the couch and flipped through no less than a half dozen soap operas, that it would be a long time before I could overcome the fear that had become almost instinctive.

I sighed. Part of me still felt bad about harboring such emotions towards my father, because he had always meant so much to me. When I lost my respect for him, it became so difficult to keep any sort of relationship between us. I wanted to have him read the paper to me, telling me the local and world news. To joke with him, get up early and work on the ranch. 

Going into Kevyn's room, I put three CDs in her stereo, choosing from the collection I'd gotten for Christmas. I spent a good hour just lying on the bed, trying to think of the good times with my father as I stared at the ceiling.

I made a sandwich for lunch, feeling a little bored. I assumed Patrick had stopped in for lunch earlier, but with my music playing I hadn't heard one way or the other. The thought crossed my mind that if I could catch Patrick home for lunch again, maybe we could discuss Kevyn, and I could make him see what he was doing.

As I went to make the bed, the phone rang, starling me. I waited for the answering machine, not feeling comfortable answering it myself.

The tape clicked on, and Kevyn's voice came over the line. "Baby, it's me." I made a mad dash into the living room and grabbed the receiver.

"Hello?" she asked, when she heard me pick up.

"Hey, is everything okay?" I leaned against the arm of the couch.

I could hear the sounds of other people milling around near her. "Its fine, Nikka, I'm just between classes right now. I have my Lit class and then a few hours at work. My boss said he wanted me to do a little more paperwork, but I should still be home around six. How are you doing? What have you been up to today?"

I shrugged. "Just drawing some," I replied, and then added, "I called and talked to Bastiaan today."

"Good! How's he doing?"

I related our conversation, and she seemed pleased to hear my father had cut back on the drinking, and said the next time my brother and I talked, to tell him hello from her.

"I've got to get to class, honey. You can answer the phone if someone calls, but you don't have to. I'll see you in a few hours, all right? We'll have dinner when I get home. I love you."

"Love you, too. Have a good day."

Someone on the other end called her name. "I'm coming! Okay, talk to you soon, Nikka."

Replacing the phone to its base, I went to finish making the bed. Then I decided to go ahead and do some laundry, so Kevyn wouldn't have to worry about that when she got home. I was sure that after a long day of school and work, the last things she wanted to do was work some more.

In between loads, I listened to the radio and thought about what to have for dinner. Maybe afterwards, if Kevyn didn't have too much homework, we could go to a movie.

Such was my motivation for the rest of the afternoon. I folded all the clothes once they were dry, and then looked through the drawers until I figured out where everything went, hanging up the items that I thought deserved to be hanging in the closet. At around four-thirty, I began actively searching the kitchen for something that would make a good dinner.

… And changed my thoughts of a movie after dinner, to a shopping trip. While there was food in the cupboards and the refrigerator, the options were limited, and I wasn't sure what to cook with the ingredients I had available.

I was just starting to get really worried that I wasn't going to be able to fix anything for dinner, when Kevyn came home early. It was only five o'clock.

She walked into the kitchen carrying a large pizza box, and set it on the table, taking a good look at the expression on my face.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I shrugged, welcoming her home with a kiss on the cheek.

All I got was a raised eyebrow.

I flushed, suddenly a little embarrassed. "I was going to cook dinner, but I couldn't find anything that would work. I didn't want you to have to fix anything when you got home."

She smiled gently, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss the edge of my jaw. "Thank you for the thought, sweetheart. I remembered on the way to work that we didn't have much left in the way of food, so I called from work and ordered a pizza, and picked it up on the way home. We'll go shopping tomorrow night, okay? I've got some studying to do for a test tomorrow, or we could go tonight."

I agreed, and we each took two slices of cheese pizza into the living room, where we sat on the couch and watched the five o'clock news. When we'd finished eating, I took the dishes into the kitchen so Kevyn could go right to studying, but as I was rinsing the plates, I felt two arms slip around my waist from behind.

There was a kiss between my shoulder blades.

I forgot about the plates, and turned the water off, listening to the sound of another kiss against my back.

"Thank you, baby," her warm breath seeped through my shirt.

I turned and settled my arms over her shoulders. "For what?"

Green eyes danced a reply before Kevyn said, "For doing laundry. For cleaning the room. You didn't have to do all that, Nikka. You know that, right?"

"I know," I assured her. "But I didn't want you to have to worry about all this stuff when you came home from school and work… I just wanted you to be able to relax."

She smiled, and kissed me. "I appreciate it, AJ. I really do." Squeezing me gently, she went off to study.

I chuckled to myself, glad I had been of some help, and finished with the dinner plates. Putting a few pieces in the microwave for Patrick, again, I put the rest of the pizza in the refrigerator and then wandered into the bedroom where Kevyn was studying. She was sitting on the bed, reclining against a few pillows near the headboard, and looked up for a moment to give me a quick wink, before bending her head to read some more. 

I didn't want to distract her, but everything in me was yearning to drink in the warmth of her body. Putting on my headphones, and listening to some quiet music, I slipped into bed behind her, urging her to lean against me instead of the pillows. With a soft smile, she settled herself and her books once more, resting her head on my chest, turning pages and scribbling notes, as I tilted my head and wondered what she was writing. Knowing it to be a futile effort, however, I was content to lean my head back and close my eyes, letting the soft tunes of my classical CD lull in my ears.

I must have fallen asleep. Maybe all the cleaning had made me more tired than I realized. When I opened my eyes again, both mine and Kevyn's positions had changed. For one, she was no longer studying. Her books and papers sat in a pile on the nightstand, with her reading glasses on top of the stack. I hadn't noticed her with glasses when I'd first entered the bedroom, and made a mental note to ask her about that later.

Also, my headphones were resting on the dresser. She must have taken them off when she noticed I was sleeping. She hadn't changed into clothes for the night, and of course, neither had I.

Her head was still on my shoulder, though. The pillows had been rearranged in such a way that was much more conducive to sleeping, and Kevyn was using two under head, clutching another in one arm. That left one pillow for me, which was just fine, as I adjusted myself enough to wrap my arms around Kevyn, pulling her close.

I closed my eyes once more, not waking again until the following morning.

I heard the alarm go off this time, and chuckled to myself at Kevyn's protesting groan as she rolled out of bed to get dressed. I sat up, too, and she waved at me to go back to sleep.

"Mm, I'll make breakfast," I responded, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I made my way into the kitchen. Kevyn came after me ten minutes later, fully dressed although the many different directions her hair was going told me she wasn't totally ready. I grinned at the cute case of bed-head, to which she rolled her eyes and snagged a few pieces of toast.

"Morning," I smiled, cradling my cup of coffee, sitting beside her at the table.

The reply was grumbled, but I got the idea.

"Okay, okay," I chuckled, pouring another cup of coffee and offering it to her. This time I got a full smile, but she didn't take the mug. Instead, she got to her feet and put some hot water in a cup, adding a tea bag.

I blinked. "I didn't know you drank tea."

She shrugged, waiting for it to brew. "Only in the mornings, or if I'm sick. I rarely drink coffee. I don't like the taste, really."

I processed this, filing it away for future reference. I gave her a teasing smirk. "Look, I can get a complete sentence this morning."

"Hush." She gave me a sideways glare, and I chuckled. Soon, she joined me at the table again, and when I tried to tell her that I would make some oatmeal or pancakes or something, because she needed more for breakfast than just toast, she shook her head.

"Thank you, baby, but I've got to go. I'll try to call at lunch, okay?"

I nodded. "All right. Have a good day."

I spent a few hours in the morning playing with the dogs in the backyard. I threw a few tennis balls around, which they seemed to enjoy immensely, scrambling over each other to be the first to retrieve it. Although I had to check their collars to remind myself of their names, I'd say we got along rather well.

Patting one of the two Collies on the head, I left them, worn out but happy, and went back inside the house. Kevyn had explained that they cleaned the yard every other day, and checked the automatic feeders and waters once a week.

I decided to clean the yard myself, but couldn't find any of the tools I needed, and made a mental note to ask Kevyn when she called. Going into the bedroom to make the bed, I shook my head when I noticed a pile of clothes on the floor in front of the dresser. Kevyn must have dressed in a hurry again, not bothering to throw her clothes in the laundry basket before rushing through a shower. With a good-natured sigh, I picked them up and put them in the hamper.

Then, I pulled the sheets taut and tucked the covers back under the mattress, arranging the pillows on top.

After my shower, I had just sat down on the couch with my portfolio, when the phone rang. I reached over and answered it without hesitation, assuming it was Kevyn, as it was almost time for her to call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, muffin!" squealed the excited voice on the other end.

I laughed. "Cupcake, hey, I wasn't expecting you to call. How are you, Stacey?"

"I'm good. It's great to hear your voice again, AJ. How are things in sunny California?"

"Not so sunny," I chuckled. "We're pretty close to the coast, so there's a lot of fog in the morning, but by the afternoon it's okay? And the weather in the city is nice."

"Ooh, tell me all about San Francisco!"

I indulged my friend with all the details for more than ten minutes, before insisting she tell me everything that was going on in Montana.

"Oh, I will, I will. How are things with Kevyn?"

I narrowed my eyes at the dodge. Stacey only started talking like her mother when she was nervous about something. But, I answered, "We're doing okay. She's in school right now, and actually I'm expecting her to call soon."

"Then I'd better let you go, honey, don't want you to miss her call."

"Wait," I interjected, before she could hang up, "what are you not telling me?"

She laughed. "Oh, nothing, AJ."

"What's going on out there?" When she only sighed, I persisted, "Tell me, Stacey."

"I didn't want to upset you, doll… Tad said Buck and Henry were bragging to some of the guys about how they'd driven you and Kevyn away…"

"What exactly did they say?"

Resignedly, Kevyn gave me all the information she knew. I could imagine the scene as she spoke…

"Hey, guys," Buck called, he and Henry jogging up to the group of six or seven jocks - their only friends, was my guess.

They greeted the others, exchanging slaps on the back and high-fives. Tad approached from behind and stood close, just listening. 

"Yo, James, did we tell you what we did to AJ?"

"Dude, were you picking on her again?" asked one, only to be silenced by the rest. It was Brian; we hadn't talked much since I'd left school, but it was nice that he was trying to stick up for me.

"You still protecting that girl? Didn't you know she turned into a fucking lez?" James turned back to Buck. "Tell us what happened."

Buck snickered excitedly. "You tell 'em, Henry."

"So, she was with that new girl, right? Well, I saw them when my folks went to church on Christmas Eve, and her dad was so disgusted, you could tell. But I heard he didn't totally know…" he grinned, "so I called her house a little while later, and told him that she tried to hit on my sister."

"He had a goddamn cow right there on the phone," added Buck, "and, like, her mom started asking him what he was saying, and who was on the phone, and he just hung up."

James shoved Henry's arm. "No shit? What'd her dad do?"

"I dunno," admitted Henry, smiling, "but I heard she left yesterday. Like, she got kicked out or something."

Brian shook his head. "And do you know what happened to Kevyn?"

"The other one? Shit, she left about a week after I called."

Laughs went up around the group. "That's two less freaks to worry about in town. I didn't think you'd really pull it off. Nice job," smirked James, congratulating the two…

"Tad was going to step in and say something, but he didn't figure it would do any good. If we would have known earlier, AJ, we would have…"

"I know, Stacey." I sighed. "But it really doesn't matter now. Kevyn and I are here, together. Tell Tad he can tell them that - that we may have left town, but we're still together, and happy."

Stacey agreed. "That's good, bunny rabbit. You two take care of yourselves, and each other."

I heard a beep. "I think that's Kevyn calling."

"Okay, I'll call again next week. Love you, cupcake."

"Love you too, sweetie," I said, and switched lines to talk to Kevyn.

"Hey, baby."

"What's wrong?"

I blinked. Not so much as three words, and she could already tell something wasn't right.

"It can wait, honey, I'll tell you later."

She chuckled softly, and I glanced up when I heard the front door open. "How about now?" she asked, standing in the doorway, cell phone pressed to her ear.

Hanging up, I walked over to her, a questioning expression on my face. 

"What's this?"

Kevyn smiled, handing me the cell phone. "It's a cell phone, honey. You know, one of those nifty devices that let's me call from almost anywhere?"

"I know that," I said, rolling my eyes. "I mean, why do you have one?"

"I figure it'll be easier for you to get a hold of me if you need anything," was the reply, and I quickly memorized the phone number she recited. "Plus, I don't have to wait for the pay phone now."

I agreed it was a good idea, and walked into the kitchen to prepare lunch.

Kevyn was right behind me. She stood, setting the cell phone and bag from Radio Shack on the table, waiting.

I sighed, feeling her eyes on me. "What?"

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" I could hear the true concern in her voice, the desire to know what was hurting me, in order to find some way to fix it. We'd agreed that open communication was the way it would be between us. How could I go against that?

Turning to face her, I told her what I'd learned from Stacey. I didn't understand how I could have the urge to kill someone one moment, and want to burst into tears the next. I mentally checked the date; no, I wasn't due to start my period for a week. Too early for mood swings from that, yet.

"I'm sorry they're such jackasses, Nikka," she said, putting her arms around my waist, holding me tightly. Giving up on thinking anymore about it just then, I leaned down and rested my forehead on a steady shoulder.

Kevyn ended up making a salad large enough for the both of us, and we shared that during a quick lunch. She had to leave to go back to class, and then spend a few hours at work; she said we'd go shopping when she got home.

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

Kevyn returned home at nearly six-thirty, a little later than I'd first expected, although she did call on her cell and ask me to fix something for dinner, when she realized she'd be late.

Finding a package of hot dogs in the refrigerator, I made two for Kevyn, trying hard not to think about all that was in them, and decided I would finish what was left of the salad. It wasn't much, but seeing as we were going shopping, I could always eat something else afterwards, when we had more options.

"Now, that's love," Kevyn smiled, as we sat down to eat dinner. At my look, she elaborated, "Cooking hot dogs for someone else when you don't eat meat."

I chuckled, breaking out into a grin when she reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

She wouldn't let me do dishes, even though I tried to argue with her.

"You go to school and work all day," I explained. "You shouldn't have to do even more when you come home."

A fair set of eyebrows made their way upwards. "And you don't do anything at all during the day, right?" I opened my mouth to reply, and then shut it again. "You don't do laundry, or pick up after me, or make the bed, or anything like that, do you? You just sit around all day and vegetate."

"I do some things. But not nearly as much as you do."

"You don't have to do any of those things, Nikka."

"I know, but I want to. I want to help out."

Kevyn sighed, and slipped her finger through the belt loop of my jeans, tugging me a little closer. "How about we strike a deal, okay? I'll make the bed and make sure to clean the room before I leave for school. If you want to do anything else in the day, you can. And we'll take turns with dinner and dishes. Sound good?"

I hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. I would still be able to take care of things so when Kevyn got home she didn't have too much to deal with, and I was sure I could work in a few surprises here and there.

"So, shopping?"

* * * * *

I admit we got some strange looks at the grocery store, but they were mostly my fault. There was something about picking out food that we would cook and eat, food to stock "our" cupboards in "our" house, that had me very happy. And, as such, I had a hard time curbing my terms of endearment for Kevyn.

"Honey, what's this?"

Kevyn was patient with me, and would only need to give me a quick look, and I'd try to concentrate more on watching my tongue. "That would be ginger, Nikka."

Ginger. Huh. I knew what that was, but I had only seen it in pieces, or known it to be in a recipe. I had never seen what it really looked like whole. It was strange. So many things looked very different than I'd originally thought.

Take pineapples, for instance. Did you know they grow on a small plant that looks similar to an Aloe Vera, and that it takes them a very long time to get as big as the ones that sell on produce shelves?

All in all, it was quite the learning experience… for both of us. I got to explain to Kevyn why certain brands of soy burgers were different, and how you had to be careful in choosing tofu dogs, because the wrong one, and… well, you wouldn't forget the taste for a long time afterwards.

We must have seemed like quite the pair, what with all of the items we bought. Potato chips and dried apple chips, 2% milk and a half-gallon of soy milk, my coffee and Kevyn's tea, some sort of cut of meat that Kevyn absolutely loved, and a few packages of soy burgers.

Once we'd arrived back at the house, I tried to take in as many bags as I could, so we wouldn't have to make more than one trip. 

"Here, hand me that bag, honey, I can take one more."

Kevyn paused, standing near the backseat where she was unloading grocery bags, and looked over her shoulder at me. "Say what?"

I was confused. She hadn't understood? "That bag, right there. I'll bring it in."

She chuckled. "The 'beg'?"

Realizing she was making fun of my accent, I stubbornly refused to say "bag" again. "That one, right there, with the bread in it. Let me have it." Smiling, I got a kiss on the ear and a whispered "Love you" as she handed me the plastic bag.

The phone was ringing when she opened the door, and I went directly to the kitchen to set everything on the counter to be put away, as Kevyn answered the phone. I heard her say hello, and heard the door close to her room just as I walked back out to get the groceries she'd put down in her haste to answer the telephone.

She was talking in her room? I wondered who had called that Kevyn had felt the need to be somewhere private…

When I'd put everything away and there was still no sign of my girlfriend, I decided to see what was going on. With only a light knock that I doubted she'd be able to hear, I opened the bedroom door, just as the conversation was ending, apparently.

"Okay, it'll be great to see you, too…" She laughed, continuing, "Yeah, I love you, too. Good night."

"Who was that?" I demanded, my voice sounding foreign, even to me. My fists were clenched, and I wasn't sure if my stomach was quivering in anger or in fear that I would learn about Kevyn's plans to leave me.

Emerald eyes disappeared behind closed lids as Kevyn sighed. Setting the phone on her desk, she sat on the bed and urged me to do the same. When I almost refused, she gave me an exasperated near-tears look, and asked, "Please?"

I conceded, and sat beside her, not sure if I wanted to have this conversation.

"Annika, I want you to trust me. But I know that look in your eyes, the one you have right now; you're not sure. I can promise you up and down that the person on the other end of that line is of absolutely no threat to us, to our relationship, but you won't believe me unless I tell you exactly who it was." A sigh, filled with hurt. "That was your brother, Bastiaan, with Bobby on the extension. I called earlier today to invite them to come and visit. They said they'd talk it over, and were just calling me back to let me know.

"I also asked them to speak to your mother. She told them she would like to visit some time, too, and Bastiaan and Bobby said they could come up for a weekend. Right now it sounds like two weeks from now would be good for everyone. Tomorrow, I think we're going to discuss plane arrangements.

"I invited Stacey earlier, as well, but she said she had a few projects due for her college class, and she wouldn't be able to get away until at least next month."

I was having trouble processing all this.

"I wanted to surprise you with it, just before they came."

I blinked. "You said "I love you" to my brother?"

Kevyn rolled her eyes slightly. "Yes. He and Bobby were teasing me about "being one of the family", and told me, "Love you, sis", before they hung up."

I still couldn't quite get it. "You mean, my mom and my brother and Bobby are coming to visit?"

"Hopefully in a few weeks, yes."

I was quiet, and then gave her an exuberant hug as it hit me. The embrace was lightly returned. I pulled back, and swallowed hard, feeling like a complete and total ass. "I… I shouldn't have been so upset. I jumped to the conclusion that… I'm sorry, Kevyn. I just, you know, there're so many things here that I don't know…"

Kevyn sighed, and kissed my temple, still stung. "Annika, you don't have to worry about ghosts from my past jumping out at every corner, okay? I'll warn you ahead of time if I can, in any case. But I can promise you that one thing I will never do, is cheat. I've been on the receiving end of that before. It's not something I'm willing to put anyone else through, least of all, you."

I nodded, and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her to me. "You're right. I know you're right. I'm sorry. I'll try."

"Love, trust, and respect, baby."

"Love, trust, and respect," I echoed.

* * * * *

The next few days, we got into a routine. I would get up when Kevyn did, and make sure she had at least a quick breakfast before she left for school. The minimum was a cup of tea, which I made while she took a shower. She would clean the bedroom quickly before she went out the door. Then, I would take my shower and usually draw or watch TV until around lunch, when Kevyn would call between classes. We'd talk for a few minutes, and then she'd have to go. Patrick would stop home for lunch, and I would stay in the living room, out of his way. If I went into the kitchen, he just ignored me anyway.

Until one day, when I decided to change that. Every night, Kevyn came home and no matter how indifferent she pretended to be to his preference for hiding, I knew she was just masking the pain. I knew it hurt her to be silently turned away. I couldn't just sit there and watch her hurt, anymore. I had to do something about it.

Thursday, I walked into the kitchen with a purpose other than eating lunch.

"Patrick?"

The man sighed and glanced up at me, eyes unconcerned. He was wearing a causal business suit, although I guessed he may have had a meeting or an interview of some sort, because he had added a tie to the usual ensemble. He'd lost some weight, I noticed. He was still a portly man, but his stomach seemed to have slimmed down a little.

I wished I could attribute it to diet or to working out, but I knew the cause was the loss of his wife.

I wanted to do something before he lost his daughter, too.

"Yes, AJ?" 

"You have to know that what you're doing is hurting Kevyn."

"I'm eating lunch, AJ. What are you talking about?" He went back to his meal, as if dismissing me.

I growled at his response. "You know what I mean! Ignoring her, never being around, not staying two seconds in the same room with her if you can help it. She misses you. Don't shut Kevyn out of your life just because you miss Diane."

He looked up again, anger now in the set of his mouth and the way he clenched his glass of soda. "Stay out of what you don't understand, AJ."

"I understand that you're losing your daughter and you don't care. Don't forget about Kevyn, Patrick. Diane wouldn't want you to be acting this way and you know it."

"Watch yourself," he warned, lowly.

"Just talk to Kevyn. Ask her how she's doing. Tell her you love her."

He snorted. "She knows I do. Now leave me alone."

I rolled my eyes, beyond exasperated. How could he seriously think that way? "If she knew that, don't you think she'd be happy? But you don't even notice her feelings, do you?"

Patrick got to his feet, glaring at me, eyes a deeper and harder green than Kevyn's. "Young lady, you have no right to talk to me like this. I won't allow you to interfere with my relationship with Kevyn."

I leaned closer and snarled, "What relationship?"

"Get out!" he bellowed. "Take your things and get out of here. You may have brought my daughter happiness at one time, AJ, but not anymore. You're just meddling where you don't belong. I don't care where you go, just go."

The words hurt, but I was too angry to feel them just then. "I know more about Kevyn's happiness than you've tried to learn in the past six weeks," I replied, storming into Kevyn's room, pulling my duffel bag out from under the bed.

I had thrown all my clothes in, and was just grabbing my portfolio when I heard the front door open and close, and assumed Patrick was leaving.

The voice I heard made me rethink that.

"Nikka?" Kevyn gasped, upon realizing what I was doing. "What's going on?"

"Your dad and I got into an argument. I'm leaving."

She came into the room. "I noticed his car in the drive. What do you mean, you're leaving? Did he kick you out?" 

I was secretly glad that she knew I wouldn't just leave on my own.

I answered evenly, "Yes," and she turned on her heel and marched into the kitchen. I followed quickly, planning on trying to stop the argument I knew was about to start. I only talked with Patrick because I thought I could help him see how his distance was affecting Kevyn. Now I'd gone and filled that distance with even more anger.

I sighed. Some help.

"Dad! What do you think you're doing, telling AJ to leave?"

Patrick was throwing away his napkin and placing the knife from his sandwich in the kitchen sink, apparently getting ready to go back to work.

He didn't turn around. "I won't tolerate her telling me what to do about my own daughter, in my own house."

Kevyn slammed her hands down on the table. "As if you know so much better! Turn around, Dad. Look at me."

"I have to go," he said, but did not move.

"You have to face me. I know it hurts you to look at me, because you see mom, but I'm still alive. I'm still here, Dad, right here. Why can't I be a good reminder of mom?" 

I heard the tears in her voice, and put my hand over hers, squeezing gently. 

"I wear this locket all the time. It has a picture of you and mom on one side, before the cancer got bad. I look at it every day, seeing the two parents I lost on the same day." Patrick still hadn't moved, and Kevyn swallowed. "You can ignore me if you want, Dad. But don't make Annika leave. Don't take my one source of happiness in this world out of my life."

A minute passed in absolute silence.

Slowly, Patrick turned to face us. Kevyn gripped my hand when she saw the tears marking his cheeks, leaving small darkened stains on his shirt.

"That's what you think? You think I stay at work all night because I can't stand to look at you?"

Kevyn blinked, a little confused by the question, and then nodded.

"God, I'm such a fool." Patrick pulled out his chair from earlier and sank into it, the same fiery eyes from five minutes before showing nothing but an aching emptiness. "Kevyn, you're my daughter, and the most beautiful creature on this earth. It doesn't hurt that you remind me of Diane - yes, I miss her with all my heart, but I'm so thankful that I still have you. I've been staying away because I've felt like I failed you, and I thought you were angry at me - with every right."

The redhead frowned. "Angry with you? Failed me? Dad, what are you talking about?"

"I broke my promise to you. You don't remember? The first day we found out your mom was sick, you climbed into my lap and cried like you hadn't done since you were a little girl, and you asked me to promise that she'd be okay, that she would at least stay with us long enough to see you have kids, or get married, or graduate from college, or even until you turned twenty. I promised you I would. I promised that we'd find a way and she'd be with us at least until your next birthday. I couldn't even do that," he sighed, and Kevyn and I exchanged surprised glances. "All I could do was watch her slip away."

"Dad…" she moved around the table to stand beside him, "I never blamed you for mom's death. All I wanted was to be with you, but it didn't seem like you could stand being near me."

Patrick shook his head, reaching an arm out to encompass his daughter in a strong hug, Kevyn returned the embrace just as tightly. "I'm so sorry, Kevyn. I do love you, baby, I want you to know that. I love you so much."

"I love you too, Dad." Suddenly, her arm moved and the next thing I knew, she'd pulled me into the hold. I kept my arm around her, even after she and Patrick pulled away.

"AJ, I… I owe you an apology, too."

I shrugged, and Kevyn nudged me. "It's okay," I said.

"If you wouldn't have said something, I don't know how long I would have gone on thinking I was doing just what Kevyn wanted," he admitted, and I blushed a little at all the credit.

Kevyn chuckled, and kissed just beneath my ear, grasping my hand. "How about lunch, baby?"

Patrick stood, and kissed Kevyn on the forehead. "I really do have to get back to work. But I'll come right home after, and we can all have dinner, okay?" We agreed, and he closed the front door softly behind him as he left, Kevyn diving towards me a moment later, locking her arms around my neck.

I caught her easily and once I was sure I had my balance, gave her a small grin. "What was that for?"

Her reply was to place a firm kiss against my lips, to which my body instantly responded, and I pulled her closer against me. She pulled back after only a few seconds, and saw the disappointment on my face, laughing gently.

"Honey, I really do need to eat lunch before I go back to class and as much as I would love to have you…"

I grinned, and nuzzled her neck. "You could."

She took a step back, then a few more as I followed her. "Nikka..."

Her lower back hit the counter, stopping her movement, and I closed in, resting my hands on her hips. When I leaned towards her, I didn't touch her skin, I merely blew a soft whisper of warm breath against her neck, and smiled when she shivered. Lifting her up to sit on the counter, I wrapped my arms around her waist, standing between her legs.

She ran her fingers through my hair, and I closed my eyes as her nails scratched my scalp. She chuckled softly to herself, and guided me until my head rested on her chest.

"I love you, Annika."

I gave a happy sound of contented agreement, and felt the gentle laughter that followed. She was still stroking my hair with one hand, her other arm wrapped around my shoulders in a sort-of hug, and I felt quite secure. Had I known how, I have no doubt I would have been purring. Loudly.

"Sweetheart?"

Another sound from me, this time meant to be interpreted as, "Yes?"

Kevyn kissed the top of my head. "You can't fall asleep on me. I have to leave in about twenty minutes."

I frowned and clutched her closer.

She smiled, and gently reached around to move my hands, taking them in hers and bringing them to her lips. Kissing my fingertips one by one, she slid off the counter when she was finished.

"Come on," I sighed, "I'll make you lunch." Although I wanted very much for her to just stay in my arms for the rest of the day, I knew she had to get back to school, and didn't want her to leave without eating.

An eyebrow was raised in my direction, and I recognized the spark in her eyes. "Now, was that you'll make me lunch, or you'll make me lunch?" she asked, with a coy grin.

I quirked my own grin right back as I replied, "Yes," and turned to start fixing her a salad. She went back to class right afterwards, leaving me with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to be back as soon as she could get off work.

I grabbed my portfolio and sat cross-legged on the couch, drawing for about an hour, working on a picture of the couple with the baby that we'd seen in Castro. That got me thinking, and soon my pencil fell still, Patrick's words coming back to me.

He said I didn't know about Kevyn's happiness anymore. He's right. I don't even know if she wants kids, or not. What if I do, but she doesn't? I set my portfolio on the coffee table for a moment. How can I know about what makes her happy if I haven't even asked about anything long-term? I mean, I know her favorite foods and the kinds of movies she likes, but what does that mean?

Nothing. I need to know about the big things, I decided. I have to know how I can make her happy in the future.

"I want us to have a future together," I said, aloud. It was then that I began to think of things I wanted to know, I had to know… things to ask Kevyn, so I could make sure to keep her happy.

* * * * *

Kevyn actually came home after Patrick that night, quite a switch. She came up behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist, kissing my shoulder, before greeting her dad with a hello and a hug of his own.

Dinner took about two hours, and by the time we finished, everything was cold and I reheated it twice. Kevyn and Patrick spent most of the time just talking with each other, and I contributed when I was asked, but I wanted the evening to be for them to get reacquainted, as it were. Kevyn told him about school and work, catching him up on all the details, and he seemed genuinely interested, asking a lot of questions. He told her about work and a few new clients, telling her how most everything was going well, except the way he'd been feeling.

"I know, Dad. Me, too."

I smiled to myself, glad things were getting better. The tension level in the house was no longer a tangible being that lived and moved and breathed against us all. In fact, I had to look at Kevyn very closely to see she was still a little unsure, and I had a feeling it was due to the secret she was still keeping from her father.

But, that was her decision on whether to tell or not tell. I just hoped with the change for the better, maybe Kevyn wouldn't cut anymore. I mean, things were going well, right?

… Right?

* * * * *

I suppose that depends on your definition of "well".

The next day, Kevyn seemed a little preoccupied in the morning. She chose not to sit down and eat breakfast, but instead grab a bagel and run out the door, leaving a quick kiss on my cheek as she passed. I wondered if perhaps she had a test that she'd forgotten to mention.

She didn't come home for lunch. That wasn't unusual, I figured she just got busy, so didn't think very much of it. I missed her, of course. It had become a treat to get to spend some time with her in the middle of the day, but I knew I couldn't expect it all the time. She was busy with school and work, after all.

So, bored as I was, and without a girlfriend to keep me company, I cleaned. I cleaned a lot. I vacuumed, I dusted, I even mopped the kitchen and the bathroom tile. Then I scrubbed the bathtub and the sinks in the bathroom and the kitchen, and washed the kitchen counters.

I was finishing washing dishes, which I'd taken out of the dishwasher to do by hand, when Patrick came home.

He laughed. "What are you doing, AJ?"

"Cleaning," I said, giving him a small grin. "I got kind of bored."

The man shook his head, still chuckling. "You should go out and ride the bus or something. Just get out of the house some."

I paused. "I don't have any money for the bus, and I don't know the routes."

"You can borrow money if you need, but since you're going to be with us a while, we can see about finding you a job. And I'm sure Kevyn will help you learn the bus routes if you want. She rides them a lot for school."

I looked hopeful for a moment, and then sighed, drying off the plates before putting them in the cupboard. What kind of job could I get where I didn't have to read? That was the thing about living on the ranch - I'd have my dad to help me with any reading. And, by the time the ranch was solely in my control, I planned on having someone else with me to help. Maybe even my brother, if push came to shove.

But, in San Francisco… I didn't think I could find a ranch.

Patrick noticed my mood, and commented, "Kevyn told me you're an artist. Maybe you could let me take a look at some of your work?"

Slightly hesitant, I agreed, and as soon as I finished putting all the dishes away, I brought my portfolio in from the living room and set it on the kitchen table for him to see. He pored over each picture carefully, even the sketches that I hadn't finished yet, and the few beginning pieces I kept in there that weren't really very good at all.

Seeming to come to a conclusion, he nodded. "I think, if you'd like, I can take this to work and do some copying to show it to my co-workers, see what they think. But I think this is all excellent work, and you shouldn't have any problem getting work in illustration, or even just selling your drawings independently," he suggested, kindly.

"You really think I could?"

"Absolutely." He grinned. "And I should know. It's my job."

I thanked him, and a moment later, Kevyn came in the door.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, making a gesture of greeting to us both before heading to her room and closing the door. 

I blinked, surprised by the behavior, but decided I would leave her be for a little while. She was entitled to her alone time.

When Patrick and I were finished with dinner and Kevyn had yet to join us, I put her plate in the microwave and reheated it for her, taking it with me as I knocked on her door.

"Baby?" I called, "I brought your dinner. It's spaghetti, and it's hot."

"I'll be out in a minute," she replied, "just leave it on the table."

Slowly, I opened the door. "Honey? You really should eat…" I paused in mid-sentence. Kevyn was sitting on her bed, writing furiously. I wondered if that meant it had been a hard day, and she was writing as an alternative to cutting. I decided not to disturb her, if that was the case. "I'll leave it on the table," I agreed, and gently shut the door behind me as I left.

Patrick was in the living room watching TV, having cleared the table for me, and gave me an inquiring look when I sat down beside him. 

I shrugged. "Girl stuff," I said, with a hopefully convincing smile, and he nodded, chuckling to himself as he turned the channel to the local news. Letting out a slow breath, I concentrated on the information being broadcasted, learning about the non-injury car accident that had the freeway backed up as police investigated and cleared the scene, and about the woman who'd just had her eleventh child.

Kevyn didn't emerge for nearly forty-five minutes, and even then, she merely retrieved her plate and went right back to writing, I assumed, in her room. Twenty minutes after that, I told Patrick good night and got up to check on my girlfriend.

I opened the door, and stopped in my tracks. Crumpled balls of paper were strewn all over the room, dozens more on the bed, where Kevyn sat. She was situated in the center of the bed, legs crossed, still writing, until she heard me come in.

She looked up, deep emerald eyes, behind reading glasses that I'd learned she only had to wear if she was going to be reading or looking at a computer screen for long periods of time, filled with glimmering tears that refused to fall. "I'm trying," she whispered. "I'm trying, Annika, I promise I'm trying."

"Oh, honey…" I hurried to her side, brushed the papers off the bed and sat down, wrapping my arms around her. "I know you are. It's okay."

Still, she didn't cry, but she let me hold her and leaned against me, not releasing the notebook or pen she held in her hands. "I lost my job the other day; my boss decided he wanted somebody who could take on more hours. So I skipped classes yesterday and today to look for another one."

"I'm sorry, honey," I said, stroking her hair, still feeling her tension. 

I started slowly, kissing along the edge of her jaw to her ear, nuzzling the area. When I felt her relax a little more, I moved to her shoulder, following her collarbone until I reached her throat. Gently taking the items from her hands, I tossed them to the floor and moved to have better access to her neck.

When I put my lips against her neck and left a small mark, I began to get a response from the redhead, and felt her arms go around my shoulders, encouraging me to follow her as she laid back. Removing all the paper balls that were in our way, I stretched out on top of her, and smiled softly.

If I had to name the look in her eyes just then, as I think about it now, I'd call it resigned. To what, I wasn't sure, neither did I know why. It only lasted a few moments, and then she arched her neck, and I obeyed the silent request quite willingly.

Sliding my hands under her shirt, I moved slowly and gently, not wanting to give her any reason to pull away from me. I let my fingertips move up her sides, trekking along the bottom seam of her bra, feeling her chest move as she took a sharp breath. Pulling her towards me, I began kissing her neck with more intensity, and reached a hand behind her back to unclasp her bra. She sat up a little and made it easier for me to remove both her shirt and bra, and then fell back to the pillows again.

I knew the gentle nip to her ear before I began moving my kisses down the newly exposed skin would grant me a quiet moan, and I wasn't disappointed. She interrupted me only briefly to pull at the bottom of my own shirt, taking it off in one swift movement, before allowing me to continue my way down her body. 

I was working at the button of her jeans with one hand, the other massaging and occasionally teasing her breast in a manner which she liked very much, when I began to kiss her stomach. The scars didn't bother me; she'd shown them to me before, so it wasn't like they were a surprise. I kissed those, too, albeit a little more softly. I felt her muscles tighten, and figured she was still nervous about them.

Then I removed her jeans, and ran my hands down her legs. When I got to her feet, I was going to go in the opposite direction, only on the inside, moving with light touches that were meant to remind her of what to expect.

I never got that far. My hands caressed her thigh, and I stopped, looking at her.

She met my gaze for a moment, and then faltered.

The scabs were hard to miss, as delicate and fresh as they were. My right hand brushed three lines running from the top to the outside of her thigh, seeming bigger than the ones she'd shown me on her stomach. I looked to those again. They were already much healed. 

These were new.

The words were out of my grasp. I sat back on my heels.

"You… your legs?" I asked, unable to get a good grip on what I was feeling.

She didn't quite look at me as she nodded.

"I don't understand… I thought writing…"

She shook her head.

"But, what happened? I thought you'd talk to me." 

"It just didn't work, Nikka. I tried, I did. But…" She sighed. 

"You could have told me about your job. I would have gone to look for another one with you, or made phone calls or something while you went to school," I insisted. "I could have helped. Then maybe…"

Her eyes met mine this time, completely. "The feeling, it was just… there. And I couldn't resist. I tried, but I just couldn't."

There was no excuse; that was the message I was getting. She wasn't making any attempt to grab at reasons for why she'd cut again, and I think maybe that upset me more than anything. I wanted there to be something to blame it on, I needed that option.

Because the only other alternative was… 

I reached out and put my shirt back on, handing Kevyn hers and helping her get into her jeans again. Stretching out beside her, I deliberately rolled onto my side, giving her my back, as I tried to get my thoughts in order. I heard her sigh, and felt the pain in her heart loud and clear as she curled up and went to sleep, a good four inches between us the entire night.

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

When I woke up the next morning, the weight I was so accustomed to having sprawled over me wasn't there. In fact, she wasn't there at all. She left before I was awake, perhaps to get an early start on job-hunting, though I hoped she wouldn't forget about her class near noon.

I wondered if she'd had breakfast, and worried about that even as I ate my oatmeal.

"She probably thinks I'm really mad at her," I sighed into the bowl. Patrick had gone too, although I noticed he had taken a few of my pictures, and I assumed the piece of paper left on top of my portfolio was a note explaining exactly that, so it was just me again.

And I was upset. Not mad, anymore, at least not at her. Somehow, it must have come across to her that she really couldn't talk to me. I must not have made that really clear, that if there was anything she needed to talk about, even if it was how much of a pain I was and that she never wanted to see me again, and she'd already packed my bags and gotten me a plane ticket back to Montana… I wouldn't like it. But I'd listen.

"Why didn't she talk to me? Maybe we could have talked it out, or done something, before she cut."

I worked myself around and around that question for the next hour and a half, until I couldn't take it anymore. There had to be something I could do… but what?

Picking up the phone, I dialed information and said, "I think my friend might be suicidal."

The woman's tone immediately changed from professional and cool to warm and kind, and she spoke in a very gentle voice that reminded me of Diane. "All right, honey. Is your friend trying to commit suicide right now?"

"No," I said, "but she hurts herself and I'm afraid she might." 

"Okay, honey. I'm going to give you the number for the National Suicide Hotline, but then I'll go ahead and direct you to them, okay? They can help you."

I nodded, and curled up on the couch. "Okay."

I was very glad the number was toll-free by the time I got off the phone. 

The man who'd answered was very nice, and was willing to answer all of my questions. When I told him it was my girlfriend that had been cutting, and that I thought she could talk to me but I'd found out she cut again just the other day and how I was a little upset, he reminded me that I needed to be there for her and explained a little more about self-injury - apparently cutting wasn't the only tactic.

"Cutters aren't usually suicidal," he explained, "that isn't commonly a reason for self-injury. Sometimes being able to talk about what's going on in their life, in their minds, what they feel that's bothering them and making them want to cut again can be a hard step to take. Most cutters are very good at hiding, and are so used to it, it isn't easy to trust someone right away with all their deepest thoughts.

"Kevyn is going to need to know you're there, AJ," he said, softly. "You can tell her that it bothers you that she cut again, but she needs to know that you're still around, and that you still care, despite the setback. 

"Cutting is an addiction, often just as powerful as any other, even cocaine. It takes just as much work to stay clean, and just like alcoholics need love and support from their families, so do people who self-injure. She doesn't need to feel like she's losing you, like she's turned you away."

I sniffled to myself at the realization that that's exactly what I had done. "How can I make sure she knows that she can talk to me? I've told her, but…"

Mike, as he'd told me his name was, suggested, "Just tell her again. Explain to her that you want her to be safe, and you don't want her to cut anymore. There are a few clinics out there that can offer help specifically geared for a self-injurer, and you can mention some of those if you like. I can bring up a list of numbers in your area if you'd like."

"Please." I asked him to repeat each number slowly and three different times, to make sure I had them down correctly, and he did so, without hesitation.

"It's good that you called, AJ. That shows how much you care, that you do want to help." I dried my tears with the back of my hand, glad I'd called, too. "I hope some of those numbers can help you even more."

I agreed. "Thanks. Um… can I call again?"

"Sure. Call anytime you need, AJ, the line is open twenty-four hours a day. Any one of us would be glad to answer any questions, and help however we can. You're not alone, and neither is Kevyn."

I thanked him again, and hung up.

Then I called the numbers I'd written down, taking two tries before I had it right, and spoke to a few people there. One was no longer in service; I made a star, so if I called the hotline back I could tell them. One that answered was strictly an inpatient sort of place, and I didn't think Kevyn would go for that, no matter what. 

The last one was what I was looking for. They said they had a sixty-day program for self-injurers, and while that wasn't long enough to declare anyone 'cured', it usually provided a decent amount of time to get to some of the underlying problems and help clear them up. Part of it was inpatient, but only for a few hours, and could be adjusted to fit schedules if there was no other way.

I kept mental notes of the conversation, as well as the name of the woman I was speaking with, and thanked her for her help when I'd asked all the questions I could think of and had all the information I needed for the moment.

I had no plans to just spring the idea of treatment on Kevyn. I wasn't sure how she'd take it, and besides, I had to figure out how I was going to make up to her for the way I'd acted the night before.

* * * * *

I had everything set up by precisely five o'clock, which was when Patrick said Kevyn had mentioned being home. I'd called him and asked if he wouldn't mind giving Kevyn and I a night to ourselves. I apologized, because I knew it was so soon after they'd started repairing their relationship together, but he said he didn't mind. Then, he called Kevyn for me and asked when she thought she'd be home, and reported back to me that she had said around five.

Now I just had to wait nervously. I looked around the kitchen, making sure all the candles I'd found were still lit, and that all the place settings for dinner were perfect, making my way out to the living room to ensure the music was just right. Since I'd cleaned just the other day, I didn't have to worry about anything being dusty or dirty.

Going back into the kitchen to fidget, I began smoothing my clothes and finding pieces of lint that I'm sure weren't really there, and picking them off anyway.

I heard her key in the door, and sprinted towards the living room, meeting her just as she walked in.

She blinked, surprised to see me so suddenly.

"Nikka?"

I smiled a little. "Come on, I made dinner."

She heard the music, and couldn't stop a slight smile. Then she walked into the kitchen, and gasped. "Oh, Annika." I watched as she took in all the candles, the music, and all the dishes on the table. "It's beautiful. But… what's the occasion?"

Taking her hand, I led her to her chair and urged her to sit, coming to my knees in front of her, still holding onto her hand. I kissed her fingers, and kept them close to my lips as I spoke. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry for the way I acted last night. I shouldn't have turned away like I did. I'm here for you, honey, I swear to you I am. No matter what. Even if I didn't seem like it last night," I sighed, nuzzling her hand as she cupped my cheek. "I love you so much. It scares me when you cut, because I don't want to lose you. But I shouldn't have gotten angry with you; I was just surprised, I guess. 

"You know, I thought when you told me that you'd try not to cut that would mean you'd do it. You're one of the strongest people I know, baby, once you put your mind to something I'm so used to it just happening." She smiled fondly at me for that. "But I understand it doesn't work like that. I want to work through this with you, Kevyn, I know we can. I promise you can come to me with anything, even if it's that you feel you need to cut again, and we'll see what we can do, okay? Wake me up at one in the morning and tell me something that's been bothering you for two weeks and I'll listen. 

"I want to listen."

She drew me up beside her, and hugged me tightly. "Thank you, Nikka. But you didn't have to go through all this, just to tell me that."

I kissed her shoulder, wrapping my arms around her. "I wanted to," I said. "I love you, Kevyn."

I felt her almost melt into me, and knew I'd been forgiven. "I love you, too, sweetheart. Thank you for this." She paused, and then asked, "I'm not complaining, trust me, Nikka, but how did you come to such an understanding today?"

I sighed. I wasn't sure she'd be happy with me, but I decided I had to tell her anyway. "I called information and they connected me to a suicide hotline, and they answered all my questions. We talked for almost an hour. I just didn't know what to do, baby, but I wanted to find out more so I could understand. Please, don't be mad," I finished, softly.

"Sweetheart, I think that's quite possibly the nicest thing you could've done. Why would I be mad at you for wanting to understand more what I'm going through?" She kissed my shoulder, and I rested my cheek against the soft red hair.

"I… There's more."

She settled her arms around my shoulders. "What is it?"

I took a deep breath, and said, "They gave me some numbers for treatment centers, and I called them and talked to a lady about one not too far from here. I still have the number, and I remember everything she said, and I thought, maybe… if you wanted… I mean…"

"We'll see, baby. Right now, I don't think it's that bad. But you tell me if you think it does get to that point, and I'll try to discuss it with you, okay?" She kissed my cheek, and nudged me off her lap. "Let's eat some of this absolutely wonderful-smelling dinner, shall we?"

We ate dinner in a rather comfortable silence, broken only occasionally by Kevyn telling me how delicious everything was, and me thanking her.

As we were clearing the table, she insisted on helping, it was obvious to me that she was still a little uncertain about something. The other day, I thought it may have been about the cutting, but we'd discussed that quite a bit. Maybe it was about the treatment center I'd brought up…

"Kevyn?"

"Hm?" she asked, as she took the salt and pepper shakers from the table and returned them to their proper places on the counter.

"Is everything okay?"

She nodded. "Sure, honey."

I looked at her, evenly. "Really?"

She chuckled softly, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss the underside of my chin. "You worry too much, Nikka. Honestly, I'm okay."

"All right." I accepted that she wouldn't lie to me outright, and slid my arms around her waist to pull her close against me. She mimicked the gesture, and we stood there in a mutual embrace for nearly three minutes, simply looking into each other's eyes. I can honestly say it was the most informative three minutes of my life.

I leaned forward just enough so that my forehead touched hers. Keeping my right hand securely on her waist, I raised my left hand to cup her cheek, feeling her breath against my lips as she sighed softly.

"What's wrong?" It came out as a low whisper.

She closed her eyes. "Nothing."

"No." That was fiercer than I intended, so I softened my tone. "Don't push me away, Kevyn, please. I know something's bothering you. Let me help?"

Kevyn moved my hand so she could rest her head on my shoulder, answering, "It's really nothing, Nikka. I'm just being silly."

I gave a sound which said I didn't believe that.

"I saw Tamara the other day, she was at the coffee shop when I went to turn in my application," she said finally, in the middle of a sigh.

Not quite sure how to reply to her statement, I opted to gently rub her back, until I knew whether the extremely irrational jealousy that had suddenly arisen in me was warranted.

"I'm not sure if she recognized me. But I walked out before I could give the manager my application. I just knew there'd be no way I could handle it if I worked there, and she came in."

I nodded my understanding. "But she didn't say anything? She didn't bother you?"

She shook her head. "I told you it was silly. It just brought back some old memories."

"… Do you miss her?" I couldn't help but wonder. What if the memories she was thinking of were about how good they'd been together, or how much fun they had? Sure, it ended badly, but that didn't mean that while they were dating their relationship wasn't better than what Kevyn and I were sharing.

Kevyn frowned slightly as she pulled back, surprised green eyes looking at me, hard. "Miss her? Nikka, of course I don't miss her! Seeing her brought back some old bad memories," she clarified, and I must have physically relaxed, because she looked at me strangely for a moment.

"You were worried that I was going to tell you I wanted to get back together with her, weren't you?"

"Something like that," I admitted, shifting a little.

"Baby…" She sounded almost… hurt? Uh-oh. "I love you. The last person you have to worry about coming between us is Tamara. Actually, you don't have to worry about anyone. You're the only one I want in my arms, Annika, and in your arms is the only place I want to be." I felt her gently tug on a strand of my hair before tucking it behind my left ear. "All right?"

I nodded, feeling a little bad that I had doubted her. 

Then, my own doubts came back to me, and I led her to the bedroom. "Honey, I… I have something else I have to talk to you about. Can we change clothes, and then talk in bed?" She agreed, emerald gaze a little wary, and we both changed quickly. I wasn't used to feeling so nervous around her; it had been a while since that particular emotion had made itself known.

Effectively changed into her pajamas, which consisted of, that night, one of my T-shirts matched with blue pants with small yellow ducks on them, she sat down beside me on the edge of the bed. Deciding that I was still feeling a little queasy from nerves, I chose to lie down instead, and took her hand in mine before beginning to speak.

"Are you happy, Kevyn? I mean, here, with me?"

She turned to her side, leaning on an elbow. "Nikka, I told you…"

"No, this isn't about Tamara. I've been thinking about this for a while. Honestly. Are you happy, being with me?"

I watched as her mind shifted into the serious-gear that was required for the conversation I'd started. "Yes. You are the best thing in my life."

"Would you want to get married one day?"

Her eyebrow quirked. "Was that a proposal?"

I blushed a little. "No, I just mean, would you want to, if we could?"

Taking pity on my expression, she didn't tease anymore, and replied, "Yes, honey. I can only hope that when we're both ready, the rest of society will be, too, and we'll truly be able to get married."

"Do you want to have kids? Or adopt, maybe?"

"Honey, is there something you want to tell me?" Before I could answer, she continued, "Where is all this coming from, Annika?"

"I know… I know what you said about this being the only place you want to be, but for how long?" 

There was that strange look again, the one I couldn't quite decipher. "Sweetheart, I can't predict the future. But I can tell you that I have no plans of going anywhere any time soon; at least, not without you."

"I love you, Kevyn. I want to be able to make you happy for as long as I live."

Her gaze softened to one that would have melted the hardest of hearts in an instant, and she moved to place an oh-so-soft kiss on my lips. "I love you too, Nikka. And I feel the same way, but let's not forget to keep watching the road for whatever comes next, okay?"

I agreed, but pressed the question. "Kids?"

She curled up close. "I would like to have one or two someday, yeah."

"What about adoption?"

"Nikka, baby, shhh," she urged, quietly, stroking my hair. "We've got time yet, we don't have to discuss everything tonight. I promise."

Ten minutes passed. Her ministrations slowed gradually, and I assumed she was falling asleep. I was far from slumber, however, having many more thoughts still coursing through my mind.

"Go to sleep, honey." Kevyn's voice startled me, and she chuckled softly as I jumped. Her lips pressed against my shoulder a few times. "Sleep. Nothing is taking me away from you in the foreseeable future, if I have anything to say about it. Now get some rest. We can talk more another night," she stated. 

In lieu of a response, I scooted down and buried my head in her shoulder, her arms going around me tightly as I knew they would. She kissed the top of my head, and held me close until I fell asleep. 

… just as I knew she would.

Deciding that she was happy holding me in her arms, and I was safe and warm in her hold, I forced myself to relax. For the time being, nothing was going to drive us apart. And that was enough.

* * * * *

My dream that night was short, and obviously stemmed from my feelings of the previous few days. In my dream, I came home to find Kevyn relaxing on the couch after a hard day of work, greeting her with a quick kiss before going to change into something more comfortable, or I would be cooking dinner when she came home. In both scenes, we were living together, some years into the future. I didn't notice any kids or any rings on the dream-us, but the happiness was clear. We had settled into the domestic life together with ease.

I slept well. It's amazing how reassuring it can be to see yourself taking out the trash of your own house, walking it down the driveway to your own garbage can on the curb, knowing that within that house - your house - sits the one thing that means everything. 

And, what's more, that she loves you, too.

* * * * *

The dawning of the next day found us tangled; tangled in the bed sheets, and entangled together. It was a good thing that we woke up at the same time. There was no way either one of us could have extricated ourselves from the pretzel we'd become overnight without waking the other.

Before I was fully back to consciousness, Kevyn kissed my forehead, then my nose, and finally my lips. The kiss deepened quickly and was followed by several others, and I couldn't have asked for a better twenty minute wake-up routine.

I smiled at her when we pulled back. It was a Sunday. No classes to worry about, and if she wanted to search for a job, I supposed we could, but was looking forward to spending some time together with nothing to worry about. At least for one day. A time where we could just enjoy being together.

"Get dressed, sweetheart. I have plans for today."

My hopes fell. She was going to be busy. Obviously, she wanted me to go with her, and that was fine. I'd do anything as long as it was with her. But, still. That meant there probably wouldn't be any "us" time.

When I didn't get up right away, she tilted her head. "What's that look for?"

"What do you have to do today?"

She blinked, and seemed to understand both what I was asking and why I was looking so dejected. "Honey, I don't have anything to do today, as far as work or school is concerned. I have plans for things that I'd like us to do."

My mood brightened instantly, and I leapt off the bed to hurry through a shower and change clothes. Kevyn was showered and dressed before I was, and waited patiently in the living room. Walking out of the bedroom when I was ready to go, seeing Kevyn there on the sofa sent an image from my dream back into the front of my mind. 

The two of us, acting like a couple. Living together. Doing things for each other, sharing the chores and responsibility. Being domestic, and doing it well.

Wishing with all my might for that to come true, I kissed the top of her head to alert her to my presence.

"We're taking BART again today," she said, as we made our way out the door. Patrick bid us a good day and Kevyn explained to him where we were going and how long we'd be gone, so he wouldn't worry. Her new cell number was written on a notepad near the phone.

"We can sit forward, right?"

Her soft laughter flowed over any embarrassment I might have felt. "Of course, baby. We can sit wherever you want. Do you mind a walk, first?"

I grinned. It was a beautiful day. The fog from earlier in the morning had already burned off, leaving a few clouds in the sky and a bright sun, the heat lessened by a breeze from the ocean. "Not at all," I replied. "Walking sounds good."

We strolled through the neighborhood and into the city, finding a small restaurant that Kevyn called a "hole-in-the-wall Mom-and-Pop" type of place. Somehow, I think the meaning was lost on me, but the food was delicious and the environment was cozy. Kevyn ordered an omelet that was as big as her entire plate, while I chose toast, fruit, and potatoes, although I will admit I stole a few bites of Kevyn's omelet. Eventually, she rolled her eyes and asked for another plate, giving me a fond half-grin as we shared the meal. 

Forty minutes later, both sufficiently stuffed, we continued our walk into the city, definitely needing to work off some of that food. The redhead beside me had insisted on paying for our breakfast, perhaps it was more of a brunch, and this time, I didn't put up much of a fight. I remembered that whatever we were doing that day was Kevyn's idea. If the occasion arose where I needed to help pay for something, I could - Patrick had slipped a few dollars into my hand just before we left, mentioning it was an advance - but knew that if our positions were reversed, I wouldn't want Kevyn to pay for anything.

We took a trolley to make our trek a little easier, and ended up back at Union Square. Had we not just eaten breakfast, I would have guessed we would be going to the Cheesecake Factory for lunch.

Leading the way, Kevyn brought us into a large store which boasted the Disney symbol everywhere.

Slightly confused as to what she wanted us to do there, I asked, "Kevyn?"

She smiled, and gently urged me forward. "Look around, baby. This is the Disney store. I figured if your mother and brother are going to be visiting, and Stacey can't make it, at least we can send something back to her. You said she likes stuffed animals, right? Let's pick something out."

I didn't care at all whether it was appropriate or not, or whether I would make a scene. I picked her up in my arms and hugged her to me, even spinning her around once before setting her gently on the ground again.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome. Now, let's have a look around."

We decided that a medium-sized stuffed Dumbo would be a good gift. Or, rather, I decided, and Kevyn agreed. Stacey was especially fond of elephant stuffed animals, I knew. Taking note of the stuffed animals that Kevyn seemed interested in, I made up my mind to come back another day and make a purchase myself. 

"Now what?" I asked, enjoying Kevyn's plans already.

"We walk," she chuckled.

We made our way down a few more blocks, passing several people, many of them greeting us with a small smile. I thought about what Kevyn had told me once, that people in San Francisco didn't seem that nice. Maybe that was true where she went to school, or in other parts of the city. So far, with all the places we'd been, I didn't notice anything.

Switching the large Disney bag to my left hand, I reached for Kevyn's hand, threading my fingers through hers.

She was quick to pull her hand away, not even breaking stride, and I blinked.

"We can't do that here, baby. I'm sorry. Downtown still isn't safe. Castro is usually all right, but we just have to be careful," she explained, and I kicked myself. Just because we were in San Francisco didn't mean it was any better than Montana, and I had to remind myself of that.

"But it didn't seem like anyone…"

"I know, but they're there, Nikka. Even if we weren't walking together, there'd still be plenty of people who would assume just because of my haircut." 

My eyes widened. "What's wrong with your haircut?"

She smiled gently. "Nothing. I happen to like it. But a lot of people will associate short hair on a girl as meaning that girl is a lesbian."

I thought about that for a moment. "But not every girl who has short hair is a lesbian, and I don't have short hair…"

"It's all about stereotypes, honey. And even if we were just friends, there's a good chance they'd see you as a lesbian anyway, because you're walking with me."

"But then, if they already assume, why can't we hold hands?"

We turned the corner onto another street before she answered. "It's just easier and sometimes safer to let them wonder than to put it right out there in their faces," she sighed. "Nikka, you remember how much of a pain Buck and Henry were?" I nodded. "They're nothing. There are people, here and in the rest of the world, that will forget about bare hands and reach for their weapons if they feel like it, because of us.

"Those are called hate-crimes, like Matthew Shepard, when someone is hurt or killed just because they live a different lifestyle."

She told me the story of Matthew Shepard as we continued on our way, although we arrived at our destination long before our conversation was finished, and found a bench so we could sit and finish the topic. I finally realized what she'd meant - she told me that just because San Francisco was seen as the "Gay and Lesbian Capital" of the world, that didn't mean everyone was happy about it. 

"Pride parades are awesome, and I go every year, at least to watch. But there are always a few protestors standing across the street." She stood, indicating that we should continue on our way. "They're usually peaceful. But you just never know. I'm sorry it has to be like this, Nikka, I wish we didn't have to hide."

I shook my head. "I understand. Until we don't have to hide anymore, I'll remember." I tried to lighten the mood a little, and offered to carry the bag, bumping her shoulder with mine. "Where are we going now?"

"Right in here."

"What's 'here'?"

"The MOMA," was all she said, as if that should have meant everything. After about twenty seconds to adjust to what I was seeing, I still didn't know exactly what it was, but it was incredible. The outside of the building itself was intimidating enough to make me stop in the middle of the sidewalk and gawk. A huge building with hundreds of windows and a large cylinder coming from the roof that looked to be made of glass in the center. From where we were standing, what I realized later was actually a skyscraper positioned behind it looked to be connected, like some sort of medieval tower.

A few thoughts I'd had about buildings not having the ability to be beautiful flew from my mind. It was amazing. If you've never been to the Museum of Modern Art, I highly recommend it. It's busy on the weekend, but worth the wait in line. Even the view from outside is worth it. 

I ran my hand along the building, feeling the texture, and paused.

"Wood?"

Kevyn chuckled. "Yes, it's wood."

"But, it looks like bricks."

"Bricks don't work well in California," she said, adding, "They're not very earthquake-sound."

"Oh." Earthquakes? Now there was a part of California I wasn't looking forward to experiencing.

We walked inside, and I found myself dumbfounded, again. The architectural wonders of this place were never-ending!

"Hey, Nikka," Kevyn whispered, and I tore my eyes away from the large columns and interesting designs behind the front desk, glancing at her.

"Look up."

Tilting my head back, I gasped. There was a metal walkway up there! It must have been made of glass, because I could see right through it to the glass above, only the metal support beams getting in the way. It was like a bridge you could see through. I had to try it

So that was the first thing we did. Kevyn was explaining to me that the stairs, which were on our left from the desk, would let us step onto any floor we wanted. She had a brochure with all the current exhibits, but I was only half paying attention. All I knew was that I wanted to walk across that bridge.

It was quite possibly the scariest feeling I'd had so far. It almost beat out flying through the sky in a pressurized metal tube. Almost. 

It wasn't glass, as I'd first thought, but appeared to be a strong metal grate. Pieces of thick steel with small squares of space accounted for the illusion from the main floor. Walking several stories above the ground, and seeing that ground below you is a rather nerve-wracking experience. But it was like I couldn't get enough. I crossed it three more times before extracting a promise from Kevyn that we could walk over it at least one more time, and continuing on to see the rest of the museum. You know, the museum part. With art and stuff.

We spent three hours walking around, just looking at the different exhibitions and all the paintings and sculptures. The second floor was my favorite, I think, since that held the photography and works that were done on paper. I went from being greatly interested in architecture to knowing without a doubt that I wanted to try photography. Or maybe it was oil painting I liked best.

I couldn't decide. Everything was incredible. We tagged along with a tour that one of the museum staff was giving, and learned some specifics about a few of the works, before we trailed off on our own again.

Kevyn read me the titles of all the ones that stopped me in my tracks, and laughed at my expression the entire time.

"Wow," I breathed, and Kevyn agreed.

"Ansel Adams."

I came to the conclusion that I liked his black-and-white photography very much. Don't get me wrong, the works he's done in color are also wonderful. There was just something about seeing the contrast of black and white… 

It was beautiful. One in particular caught my attention, and I spent at least five minutes sitting on a bench, staring at one which Kevyn said was titled "Mount McKinley, Lake Wonder". 

"Look at how the light falls on the mountain," I said, "and the perfect stillness of the lake. That's awesome."

Kevyn smiled, and gently rubbed my shoulder. "You like that one, hm?" I nodded. "Then, come on, we'll get it."

My jaw dropped. "We are not buying one of these!" I hissed, getting to my feet, mindful to keep my voice low so as not to disturb the other visitors around us. "They've got to be insanely expensive."

"No, Nikka," she laughed, "they have a store in the museum. We can get a reproduction in a poster."

I blushed a little at my exclamation. "Oh. Okay."

It took another forty-five minutes to get me out of the store, near the main entry. Everything seemed to be calling to me, but finally, Kevyn tugged me by the arm and led me outside. I put the rolled poster into the large Disney bag and looked around, breathing the air that seemed to be even crisper than earlier in the day.

"I want to show you something else."

Following Kevyn across the street, I was once again overwhelmed with the beauty of man-made structures. We were in the Yerba Buena Garden, Kevyn said, which was a huge expanse of gardens and had a waterfall in memory of Martin Luther King, Jr. There was artwork all over San Francisco, I decided - even the Garden had pieces of art scattered around, like the Ship Sculpture.

Between the metal framework were glass panes, and I could see vegetation within the sculpture. "Hey, there are plants growing in here!" 

Kevyn just chuckled. She already knew that, of course. But I felt the need to point everything out to her, nonetheless. Such as the large arrow on a nearby building that pointed up and declared "Sky" in big white letters. I thought that was quite amusing.

"Wow," was the only word I had an hour later, after we'd explored some of the gardens. We sat on one of the numerous benches, side-by-side, just absorbing the atmosphere. I was extremely excited by all that I'd seen, and by the whole day in general. I could feel that Kevyn was happy and relaxed in return, and kissed the top of her head quickly.

She smiled, green eyes brighter than I'd seen in a long time, and I decided the day together had been just as beneficial for her.

"Ready for one more view? Then we can go home and have dinner," came the offer, and I readily agreed. 

"Sure."

We walked a few blocks to a MUNI station, waited a few minutes for the next #28 bus, and then stepped off again about ten minutes after that. 

I couldn't speak. With the exception of the woman by my side, it was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen.

The Golden Gate Bridge. The bus had dropped us off at the south side of the bridge, and all I could do was stare. Seemed I was doing that a lot.

"We'll just walk a little ways and then turn back, okay? I just thought we could watch the sunset." Her voice was soft, and I could tell she was a little unsure as to whether or not my silence was a good sign. "Then I'll cook some dinner."

I smiled, and started walking, Kevyn falling into step beside me. "This… I don't even know. This is outstanding."

Kevyn smiled. "I'm glad you think so."

I was glad for Kevyn's hand in the small of my back, as I often looked up to see the cables above us, and relied on her to guide me in the right direction. We continued for about fifteen minutes, following the path, and then stopped to look over at the ocean. With all the cars driving by, I couldn't hear the tide hitting the shore, but I could see the waves and the sun as the last of its rays reflected off the water. Knowing that the drivers probably couldn't care less about two girls on the side of the bridge, I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close, sharing in the setting of the sun as I let my mind wander.

My mother and brother would be coming to visit in a few weeks. I couldn't wait to see them, and I missed them both like crazy. At the same time, I wouldn't go back if they asked me to. Not for good, anyway. Everything that I needed and wanted was right within arms reach.

That's not to say that life in San Francisco was perfect. But it was getting better. Kevyn and her father were able to enjoy each other's company again, and Kevyn and I were learning more about each other every day. Patrick was going to help me get a job, and maybe Kevyn was right, I could actually go somewhere with my art.

There, standing on the Golden Gate Bridge, watching the ocean, I realized that I was very lucky. 

"You know," I said, jumping as a car horn sounded, "I miss the peace and quiet of the country sometimes." Kevyn raised an eyebrow and I chuckled softly. "But I could get used to the city."

With all its beauty, I didn't think it would be long before I came to love it, crazy drivers and all.

But for now, Kevyn was beside me. I began walking back towards the south end of the bridge, to the station that would start us on our travel back home. More of a home than I'd felt in a long time. "Home", where Kevyn would cook dinner, and we would sleep soundly in each other's arms, keeping the rest of the world at bay until morning. 

And that was enough.

 

 

If you or someone you know is struggling with self-injury, depression, addiction, thoughts of suicide, involved in an abusive situation, or is simply in need of someone to talk to, please don't hesitate to make use of these resources. There is help.

You are not alone.

Hotlines: 

Abuse/Violence:  
National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233

Alcohol/Drugs:  
Alcohol and Drug Hotline: 1-800-821-4357

Cutting:   
Hotline for Cutters: 1-800-366-8288

Depression/Grief:  
National Grief Recovery Hotline: 1-800-848-9595  
National Depression Association: 1-800-826-3632

Girls and Boys Town (available to anyone at anytime for any reason):  
National Hotline: 1-800-448-3000 [Toll-free, 24 hours a day]  
TTY: 1-800-448-1833

Suicide Prevention:  
Hope Line Network: 1-800-SUICIDE (784-2433) [Toll-free, 24 hours a day]  
National Youth Crisis Helpline: 1-800-999-9999

You can also look in the front of your phone book under: 

Suicide Prevention  
Hotlines - suicide or crisis  
Community Crisis Center

There are an innumerable amount of websites out there designed for help and support, including:

Regarding Self-Injury:  
http://www.palace.net/~llama/psych/injury.html

Girls and Boys Town:  
http://www.girlsandboystown.org


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